


A Story of Us

by the_irish_mayhem



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Angst, Cute, F/M, Family, Fluff, Fosterson Week, Future Fic, Gen, Happy, Jane is Worthy, Prompt Fill, Speculation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 17:03:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 26,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_irish_mayhem/pseuds/the_irish_mayhem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of prompt fills and other fic that all feature Jane and Thor as the main pairing.<br/>Some are canon, some are canon divergence, others are completely AU. It's an amalgam of Fosterson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Parenthood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Multiple prompt requests for Jane and Thor as parents.

"It’s definitely your turn."

"I’m quite certain I was up with her the last time."

"No, that was me. She wanted to be fed."

"Maybe she wants to be fed again, so it would be ridiculous for both of us to get up."

"I am not getting out of bed until I know for sure it’s not a dirty diaper."

"Jane-"

"Nope. My boobs, my rules. You go."

With a groan, Thor tossed his covers off and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stood, wavering on his feet a moment from being so abruptly pulled from his sleep by the sound of their daughter from the monitor.

His gaze turned to his wife, whose light snore had picked up seconds after she’d finished her sentence.

He remembered the advice given to them by his mother after their daughter had been born and the queen had come to Midgard to see them. It was a sight that twisted Thor’s heart in the best kind of way when he saw his mother holding his child. _Appreciate them while they’re small,_ she’d said, _because before you know it, they’ll be grown_. That was promptly followed by a strong, _But dear, I don’t know how you and Jane will get any sleep without maids tending to her. You should bring her to Asgard, at least until she can sleep through the night._

But the both of them had been rather insistent on doing this themselves. As he made the short walk to the nursery, he remembered Jane’s strength in her opinions. Many of the Asgardian Court ladies had made it no secret they didn’t approve of the princess being born on Midgard, or being partially raised on Midgard. Jane’s eating of Indunn’s apples had quieted most of the complaints about the child being a ‘half-breed.’ (Jane’s face when she heard that had been terrifying. Thor hoped he would never be the focus of it.) _Nearly all parents on Midgard do it_ , she’d said, _and I’m sure if your heads weren’t so far up your asses you’d see that there are Asgardians who do it as well_. That was the day those in the Court had stopped messing with the Royal Consort Lady Jane of the house of Foster of Midgard.

He was so proud of her.

Speaking of his other favorite girl… “No need for tears now, my sweet,” he murmured, picking her up.

When she was born, he had been terrified of holding her. She was so tiny, her fingers and arms and legs and body so delicate.

She carried his golden hair and blue eyes. Thor hoped she would grow to be as beautiful as her mother. _It figures,_ Jane had joked, _I spend all those months puking and peeing every five minutes and then 10 hours of labor later she pops out looking just like you._

It was almost easy for him to hold her in one hand, but he didn’t quite have the courage to do that just yet.

Holding her to his chest, feeling her fluttery heartbeat and little puffs of breath against his skin, he checked her diaper and found it dry and empty.

He sighed. Jane wasn’t going to be very happy.

"Y’know, you holding a baby is really a turn-on," came a sleepy voice from the doorway. Jane walked up to his side, gave his shoulder a peck in greeting.

Their daughter had ceased her loud crying at it had turned into small whimpers. Thor replied, “You really are miraculous at this.”

She shrugged. “I thought that was her hungry cry. She usually just whimpers like that when she knows the milk truck is nearby,” Jane said, chuckling at her own joke. “Just lemme get situated and you can hand her over, okay?”

Jane had taken to wearing Thor’s shirts to bed since they were huge on her tiny frame and it was easier for her to feed their daughter than just wearing plain old pajamas.

Jane settled herself on the widow seat, adjusting her shirt. Thor placed her in Jane’s arms before settling down beside her on the seat that was large enough for the two of them.

"It’s okay, Thor. Go back to bed."

He was beyond sleepy. Following Jane’s command sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world to him. Instead, he responded quietly, “No, I think I’ll stay here.” He shifted so that Jane could lie back against his chest and he could wrap his arms around her middle. Their height difference made it easy to look upon both Jane and his daughter.

Jane sighed in resignation, relaxing back into his hold, “Okay.”

Only the muted sounds of their daughter eating and their quiet breathing filled the air.


	2. Jealous Jane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Another woman flirts with Thor and Jane gets possessive.

She really should have expected this sooner.

Exhibit A: Thor is famous.

Exhibit 2A: He is an incredibly handsome Thunder God/Prince/Avenger

Exhibit B: Even without all that, he is one hot man.

Yeah, she’s not ashamed to admit it. Her… (boyfriend? That sounds relatively inadequate. Also a bit like she’s a teenager. He’d probably call himself a suitor. Yeah, not going to label right now.) was devastatingly handsome. Being near him was literally electric, (no pun intended… who the hell is she kidding, Darcy has made that pun no less than 36 times since he came back) and Jane was thankful the attraction and easy chemistry between them hadn’t faded in the two years that they were apart.

But, back to the situation at hand.

Thor was all about the human experience, so he convinced Jane to take him to places she liked to go. (“Captain Rodgers informed me I am obligated to take you out on these excursions called dates? He also told me to bring you flowers,” at which point he whipped out a bouquet of carnations that looked a little like they’d been through a wind storm but he was proudly grinning like a loon and she just grinned right back and took them anyway.) This was their second ‘excursion’ and she decided to take Thor to this little bar a few blocks from her apartment.

It was as close to New Mexico as she could find in London without being tacky. Warm lighting, heat always up maybe a notch too high, and nearly every surface was sanded and buffed red wood. It was always a little busy, but Jane liked the place.

What she most certainly did not like was the the very blonde, very perky, outlandishly proportioned woman who was animatedly speaking to Thor at the moment. It’s obvious she’s flirting, she way she keeps trying to draw Thor’s eyes to her breasts, which are nearly spilling out of her tank top, the way she laughs at every response he gives, the twirling of the hair on the fingertip.

Jeez, she leaves him alone at their table for less than a minute to go grab their drinks (two boilermakers) and already he had an amorous admirer. Really, she shouldn’t be surprised.

She held her head high and strides to where Thor is sitting with the woman standing over him. It’s a rare night when she feels confident, but tonight was one of those nights. Darcy convinced her to pull on this sexy little red dress that ended above her knees with a plunging back, and it was something she never would have attempted on her own. In fact, she wasn’t even sure how it ended up in her closet (she blames Darcy who also tried to get her into a pair of golden stilettos, but Jane had had enough dressing up for one evening.) She offset the borderline-fancy number with a pair of flat, black boots that she liked to call her ‘you-wouldn’t-know-if-I-have-a-doctorate-or-a-black-belt-in-these’ boots.

So, she said, not even bothering with a polite tone, “Excuse me, you’re blocking my seat.”

The woman continued speaking as though she didn’t even know Jane existed. She had a London accent, and if Jane had to guess, was probably a university student. “But really, of all the Avengers, I think you are probably the greatest. I mean, what with all those muscles and that huge hammer.” It was at this point the girl ran a teasing finger down Thor’s bicep.

Thor looked entirely oblivious, like he was having a legitimate conversation with a Midgardian lady, and wasn’t engaged with a woman who very clearly wanted to eat him for dinner. And probably breakfast as well.

She was pretty sure her eye-roll was entirely audible. Jane knew Thor had probably seen her approach, so without bothering with the nice routine again, she set their drinks on the table, and pretty much hip checked the girl out of the way and sat down.

Thor stifled laughter at Jane’s stormy expression.

"Hey, we were having a conversation!" the blonde girl raged once she’d reclaimed her position.

Jane’s expression went icy. “And you were blocking my seat. I asked you to move and you didn’t, so I had to take matters into my own hands.”

"Who do you think you are?"

She almost answered ‘Odin Allfather, king of Asgard,’ just for kicks. Instead, she replied, “Dr. Jane Foster.”

"And is that supposed to mean something to me?"

"Well, if you had something rattling around in that skull of yours, probably."

The blonde woman’s jaw dropped. “Did you just call me stupid?”

"Oh dear, the poor girl doesn’t even know English," she mocked in a falsely sympathetic tone. Briefly, she wondered where this side of her had come from.

"Oi, listen here, you frumpy little munter, I don’t appreciate you so rudely interrupting us," the woman hissed.

"Don’t speak to Jane that way," Thor finally spoke up. He looked scandalized by the woman’s words.

That caught her off guard. She seemed to have thought Thor was her ally at the table. And Jane was not happy with this lady. She’d spent enough time in Greenwich to know what a ‘munter’ was.

Thor seemed to want to say something more, but she put a hand on his arm in a silent request to let her handle it. Jane slid out of her seat, standing toe to toe with the taller woman. She didn’t notice the height difference. “Back off,” she said lowly. “He’s already spoken for.”

Her eyes darted between Jane and Thor for a few moments before backing away. “You’re a nutter,” she said to Jane. Her eyes turned to Thor, and she called out, “If you’re ever looking for other company, come find me.”

"I promise I won’t be," Thor replied.

That made Jane smile as she sat back down. “Well. That was… not like me.”

Thor’s expression changed to something a little more carnal. “Your ire is most… stimulating.”

Forgetting about the unpleasant experience with the woman, she played along. “Is it now?”

"I might venture so far as to say you looked rather ravishing." His tone brooked no room for misunderstanding.

"Too bad we have these boilermakers to finish, or I might just drag you back to my apartment and you could show me how… stimulating you thought I was."

They didn’t finish their drinks.


	3. Sick Jane + Caring Thor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Thor taking care of Jane while she's sick.

"I feel fine, really, just shoo. I’m fine." Jane words were punctuated with her tripping over her own feet, stumbling until her hands hit a table. The absolute ridiculousness of her words was also scored by the fact ‘fine’ came out sounding like ‘fide.’ She didn’t make a convincing argument for herself.

Her head was throbbing in time with her blood, her body ached and it felt like her eyes were trying to push out of their sockets. She felt horrible.

Who’d have thought her sniffles last night would’ve turned this hellish in the span of 8 hours. “Jane, I really think you should come home,” Thor prodded gently.

"Or at least sit down," offered Tony from where he was tinkering with some bit of machinery, "because you look like some sort of cross between pulling a drunk all-nighter and a very unfortunate raccoon that just got hit by a truck."

Jane sent him an exasperated look only Jane could manage, “But I’ve almost got this part of the equation figured out,” she protested, making her way using tables and chairs and Bruce’s shoulder for balance as she made her way over to the clearboard where a hodgepodge of numbers, greek letters, and mathematical operations spanned the board, “See, if I can just figure out why this negative doesn’t cancel out the sin theta function- oh my god, it’s the arctangent. If I just move the congruence…” It was at that point that not a single soul in the room could understand her as she began mumbling only to herself in physics and complex mathematics.

The three men realized trying to get her to rest would have to wait until whatever was happening her was finished.

Roughly five minutes later, while Bruce and Thor were having a pleasant conversation about goings-on in Asgard with Tony’s snark sprinkled in here and there, Jane finally stood back.

She was looking over her work, head cold from hell momentarily forgotten. “I did it,” she stated quietly. The longer and closer she looked it over, the more she realized it was true. “I did it!” she nearly shouted, whirling around in her triumph.

But instead of seeing the stunned/amazed/handsome faces of Thor, Bruce, and Tony, all she saw was this strange gray color that looked like it had small pixels in- oh. That’s the floor. Why is that the floor?

"Jane!" she could hear Thor’s voice, and soon she felt his arms wrapped around her and pulling her into a sitting position. Oh my, those are very bright lights. "Are you all right?"

At some point Bruce had joined her and Thor on the floor. Her had a small penlight and said, “Your pupil dilation looks fine.” After putting it away, Jane brought a hand up to rub her temple. Bruce sighed, “Jane, I wanted you to go home hours ago. Your cold it probably causing all sorts of fluids to build up around your inner ear, which lead to your balance problems.”

"But Bruce, I can do this, just let me look-"

"It’ll be here tomorrow. No one else in the world is going to figure this out before then, okay? Just go home, get some sleep, and you’ll feel a lot better," Bruce reasoned.

Jane moaned. “Fine. But I’ll be back tomorrow,” she swore sternly. It was then that Thor picked her up bridal style. She let out a pathetic, little ‘ah’ when he did it, promptly followed by a “I can walk by myself!”

"Except you really can’t," called Tony.

Bruce was speaking just to Thor now, “Just make sure she stays in bed. Bring her some soup and tea. Steve said to call him if you can’t figure out the stove.”

Jane lost track of the rest of that conversation because Thor’s arms were so warm and strong and cozy and suddenly his bicep was the best pillow to ever pillow and she was out like a light.

When she awoke, she flailed a little bit and realized she was under the duvet of her bed back in her apartment. Immediately she tried to sit up, and a headache blasted through her skull.

She groaned in impatience as she fell back against the pillows. God, she hated being sick. She was laid up in bed, couldn’t do anything. If she even wanted to eat, she’d have to haul her ass out of bed and stand around miserable until whatever she was making was finished-

"Jane! You are awake!"

Oh. That was Thor. He lived with her now. Right. Interesting.

"Hey," she croaked out. She lifted herself up slowly, carefully. Thor looked so saddened by her invalid state, but she couldn’t help but notice they tray in his hands. "Oh," she gasped softly in surprise. A steaming bowl of what was probably soup, a cup of tea, and jesus, there was even a tiny little white daisy laying next to a spoon. (She figured that was probably courtesy of whoever was rummaging around in the kitchen. Probably Steve, since he lived the closest, and he and Thor were very close friends.) "Thor, you didn’t have to."

His smile was back in place as he sat down next to her. “But I wanted to, my lady.” They both shifted so that the tray could sit comfortably on her legs. Her head throbbed a bit as she sat up a bit more, but it was easier to ignore.

"Thank you," she said earnestly. "I don’t think I’ve ever had someone do this for me while I was sick."

"Well, you are my queen and deserve to be treated as such."

She snorted. “And now you’re just being ridiculous,” she said, a smile forming without her permission.

She brought a spoonful of the soup to her mouth and enjoyed the burn of the broth as she swallowed it. It felt soothing on her throat, raw and achey from her sinus drainage. Ugh. She hated being sick.

She was about to comment on the soup’s flavor, which was actually very good, surprisingly, (Thor wasn’t exactly the world’s greatest cook) when he smoothed her hair back, away from her face.

She was sure she looked terrible, but Thor still managed to look at her like she was something precious and breathtaking to behold. She laughed a bit self-consciously and looked back down to her food. Thor plucked the flower from where it was sitting, and tucked it behind her ear. His huge hand rested on her cheek a moment, and she just couldn’t get enough of his smile.

"Do you require anything else, Jane?"

She was about to say no, just that she wanted him to sit with her for a while, but as she took a sip of her tea she realized she wanted something else. “Can I just get a glass of water?”

"Of course. I will return for you," he said cheekily.

As he stood, she fired back, “Just don’t take two years. Also,” she called out a bit louder as he was leaving the room, “tell Steve I love the soup.”

She could hear his laughter all the way to the kitchen.


	4. In Which We Meet Richard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Multiple prompts that request Jane and Thor meeting Richard.

Thor really did love Midgard. The cities were so different from Asgard and the other realms, all reflective glass, steel, and concrete. It was so vast, Earth. The part of the realm where he’d met Jane was far in the distance, the red dirt, scrub plants, and hot sun replaced by gray clouds, chilled air, and rain.

Today was not ordinary- the sun shone lighting the streets and buildings and the sky was immaculate blue. It was still an adjustment to look up and not see the deep purple and black and the scattered stars of his home.

But the Earth, while beautiful, was not a match for Jane. Even on the darkest of days, she shone like a polished gem. He was privileged to be shown the beauties of Midgard by the most beautiful Midgardian.

He leaned down to Jane, their hands clasped between them as they walked down this ordinary street, and told her so.

Her eyes found his, laughter in her voice as she said, “Hardly, and you’re being really ridiculous again.”

They conversed playfully, their mutual affection plain to the casual observer, as they headed back to Jane’s apartment until they heard from behind them, “Jane?”

They both turned, and Thor saw that the speaker was a curly-haired Midgardian man who was staring intently at Jane, eyes flicking to where their hands were joined. Jane was leaning against his arm, which the strange man must have found displeasing if his expression was anything to go by.

"Richard!" Jane exclaimed, completely off-guard. Her hold on Thor’s hand tightened, and he immediately noticed this new tension in her frame. "What are- uh, how are you?" Thor had to fight a grin at her awkward tone.

So this was Richard who had called Jane and sounded very pleased when she didn’t want him to hang up.

"I’m doing fine. Would be better if you’d called me back," he intoned slowly, glancing between Jane and Thor, the question hanging obviously in the air.

Probably avoiding the question, Jane instead asked, “What are you doing here?” She shifted slightly against Thor, making no moves towards Richard.

Jane’s (former) suitor seemed a little miffed. “I was just getting coffee. And what about you? Sure seemed to move on rather quickly,” he said, his voice not quite reaching the venom Thor was sure he was going for.

Jane seemed to remember that she was leaning on Thor and hopped away (literally hopped to the side about six inches), but didn’t release his hand. “Oh, yeah. I mean, no! This-this is the guy that Darcy was talking about. The bad breakup. Or whatever. This is him. We’re back together. Or, we never… yeah, we’re back together.”

While Richard was coming to terms with this sudden turn of events, Thor was still fighting a smile. Basking in the pride that Jane had chosen him was a delightful feeling. It would be a lie if he said he didn’t want to show that off in the face of one of her former suitors. So, without letting any more awkwardness pass between Jane and Richard, Thor stepped forward, offering his free hand as he’d learned was the custom on Midgard. Richard took it, somewhat suspiciously. “It is nice to finally meet you, Richard.”

Before he could finish his greeting, Richard pulled back in shock. “Oh my god. You’re Thor.”

"Yes. Hello!"

"Your ex is Thor?” Richard asked incredulously.

"He was never technically an ex. I thought he was but it’s a really, really long story."

Thor looked down at Jane. “She just doesn’t want to tell it because it involves her hitting me with her car. Twice.”

"That’s not- I grazed you!" Jane protested, meeting his gaze while the tension slowly drained from her with their banter. "Besides, you’re a god. Not like it was going to leave much of a scratch."

"I wasn’t at the time," Thor pointed out gleefully, loving when Jane got all riled.

"You were in the middle of an astrological event! I didn’t see you until I was on top of you!" He was about to counter, and Jane said with finality, "Just… hush. You were fine, so that’s the end of that."

"Oookay." That was Richard, whom the couple had halfway forgotten. "I think I’m just going to turn around with my coffee and walk in the other direction before my pride gets any more wounded. Have a nice day." He turned to do just what he said he’d do.

"Wait, Richard!" Jane called. Thor had half a mind to be confused, but it cleared with her next words. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into… this."

Richard sighed, “Not your fault. Also, I have no intention of being drawn into some interstellar love triangle, so no thanks.”

He felt Jane heave a sigh of relief. They parted ways, Richard heading up the street, and Jane and Thor continued on their way. “Oh god, I feel so bad. I really am sorry about going out on dates when you-“

"Jane, there is nothing for you to apologize for. You did not know what happened to me. As far as you knew, I had broken my promise of returning. It is good you tried to move on."

She loved his simple words and answered, “I am so glad you came back.”

"As am I."

She opened her mouth to say something to him when her eyes widened in panic. She whirled around and cupped her hands around her mouth. “RICHARD!” Jane yelled at the top of her lungs at the man who was more than halfway up the block.

They saw him turn in the distance and he yelled back in despair, “WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME, JANE?!”

"IF AN AGENCY CALLED SHIELD COMES KNOCKING AT YOUR DOOR, JUST FORGET YOU EVER SAW US, OKAY? LIFE WILL BE A LOT EASIER FOR YOU!"


	5. Domestic Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Multiple prompts for domestic Jane/Thor

Despite Thor’s tendency to be a bull in a china shop at times, he took to cooking quite well.

Erik had had to be checked back into the hospital, and Darcy was keeping her distance, for once bothering to have some tact, so she and Thor were completely alone.

At first, that had freaked her out beyond belief. Because here she was, just this frumpy little scientist in her tiny little apartment that didn’t seem like it could contain Thor’s massive presence.

But once he took off his armor, donned a pair of jeans and a t-shirt (“This Midgardian clothing is very comfortable!”), and pulled his long hair back into a ponytail (and jeez, Jane was dating a man with a ponytail. Her life had certainly taken an interesting turn) he seemed… normal.

Almost normal, anyway. Their first trip to the supermarket had highlighted just how alien he was. There had been some… misunderstandings about processed foods and what the words ‘baby formula’ actually meant, but they had eventually gotten their shopping done.

That was three weeks ago now.

Aside from that (although their cultural difference were often a great talking point for them, rather than causing wide chasms) they’d settled into a very comfortable rhythm. Wake up in the mornings, Jane would take him with her when she had to work (he was of great assistance with helping her understand the way Asgard viewed the universe, because they obviously had a huge head start on her, and near-infinite knowledge), then doing fun, sometimes ridiculous things like touring London, and driving to the White Cliffs of Dover to have Thor insist on leaping into the ocean from the top. They maybe almost got arrested. It was probably the most fun Jane had ever had.)

Second on her list of concerns was their relationship. Because was there a more bizarre couple in the entire universe? Probably not. They’d spent a combined total of less than three weeks together, yet she was beyond sure she loved him. Also there was the whole emotional trauma of the murders of both his brother and his mother, and she found herself in a role she’d never taken with any of her previous partners: emotional supporter.

Some nights saw Thor waking from nightmares, usually with Loki’s name on his lips, and Jane was blown away by this man, this larger-than-life god, trembling and on the verge of tears. When she wrapped her arms around him, he clung to her like a lifeline. She rarely knew what to say in the semi-darkness of their bedroom, but words were rarely required.

As a result, their closeness had developed beyond simply physical attraction (which hadn’t dissipated in the least. Their sex life was addictive, and Jane was not ashamed to say it.)

These quiet, domestic moments were new to Jane, but she enjoyed them.

Jane’s cooking skills had hardly developed past the stage of making boxed mac and cheese (but she had perfected the balance of milk and butter which was difficult to do), but she made a point to learn how to make more things because she had a prince living with her.

Not that Thor complained, and they both relished in having an activity they could learn together.

"So, while I’m making the sausage you get to slice the onions."

"I don’t understand how Midgard can have such a strange vegetable. It tastes wonderful but it makes my eyes hurt."

"Onion tastes fine when it’s mixed with something," Jane conceded, "but not on its own."

Thor looked up at her from his task, pointedly popping a sliced piece of onion into his mouth and grinning.

Jane wrinkled her nose as she turned the italian sausage in the pan, the casings beginning to blacken with the sautéing. “Ugh. Just remember that I’m the one who has to kiss that mouth.”

Setting down his knife, Thor looped an arm around her waist, not having to reach very far in her small kitchen. He pulled her away from the pan on the stove and brought them face to face. “I remember this fact quite well, my lady,” he teased, leaning down to kiss her.

"Gah!" Jane exclaimed, giggling as she tried to get away from his mouth. "You’re all onion-y!"

"Yes, I suppose I am," he said, settling for kissing her cheek instead.

He didn’t let her go, and Jane eventually pointed out, “You know, the sausage is going to burn if I don’t keep an eye on it.”

Holding her close to him, pressing onion-y kisses on her face everywhere except for her mouth, Thor said, “If they did, we could always eat just the onions.”

"Okay, now I really want to keep an eye on them." With that, Jane managed to break away, returning to the sautéing. 

They quietly finished the meal, Jane letting Thor take over the sautéing of the onions and peppers as she sliced the sausage.

Jane retrieved two mismatched plates from her cupboard, and Thor put together the dish on the plates. Armed with their forks, they sat down at the small card table that functioned as her dining table.

The hot italian sausage was delicious, and Jane said, “See, onions are better with other things.”

Thor’s plate had a disproportionate amount of onions and peppers on it, as well as the lion’s share of the sausage. He was an Asgardian, and a huge one, at that, so his appetite was a bit larger than the average human.

"We shall agree to disagree, then, Jane."

They chatted over their dinner, Jane about her findings, and Thor about his recent work with the Avengers.

When they finished, a game of rock-paper-scissors determined that Thor would do the dishes, and Jane went off to do some work.

She might never have had this before.

But she could definitely get used to it.


	6. Pregnant Jane + Caring Thor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for pregnant!Jane shenangians.

It’s literally the dead of night when Thor hears rustling around coming from their kitchen. For barely a moment, he fears it is a criminal, but when he reaches for Jane beside him, he finds only warm sheets. He knows exactly where she is- it’s not the first time he’s woken up to these exact circumstances.

He sat up and tossed off the comforter, shivering slightly as the air of their apartment hit his skin. He padded out to the kitchen, where the lights were on, and he could hear Jane rummaging through drawers in their fridge and cabinets, occasionally mumbling to herself.

He stopped at the entryway to the kitchen, leaning on the doorframe as he watched her. She wore one of his shirts that didn’t quite swallow her baby bump any more, and a pair of loose shorts with stars on them. He was awash with adoration for this woman, his wife and the mother of his child.

"Where the hell did that go?" she wondered aloud, and he spotted a package of pepperoni in her hand. She was plucking them out and eating them one by one. "No, that’s not right," she said, tossing the package onto the counter and apparently intensifying her search.

"Can I help you find anything?" he asked cheekily.

She popped up suddenly from where she was crouched looking through one of the cabinets containing a myriad of pans. “Oh, hey, hi, yes. I really need to find the peanut butter. I also can’t remember where I put the freaking spice box, and I need curry power desperately.”

"Well, the peanut butter is on your bedside table," he offered wryly. "You insisted on eating it in bed while you worked this afternoon."

She looked at him like he was a genius. She quickly walked up to him, pressing a very enthusiastic, pepperoni-tasting kiss to his lips. Upon pulling back, she said seriously, “This is why I love you.”

"Glad to be of service," he said, smiling broadly.

She squeezed by him, headed for the bedroom, but not before asking, “Can you keep looking for the curry powder?”

He nodded, continuing Jane’s frantic search. He knew she tended to skip the highest cupboards when she was looking for something simply because she couldn’t reach them.

By the time she arrived with the half-eaten jar of peanut butter in hand, he’d located the curry powder above the stove. He presented it to her with a grin, and her answering one was worth the waking up in the middle of the night. Well, since she became pregnant she would sometimes wake him up in the middle of the night with _other cravings_ , and if he was honest, he probably preferred those times, but these times were good in their own way.

"Perfect," she enthused, and then she piled her loot together on the countertop. Jane then pulled out two pieces of bread, much to Thor’s mild disgust. He understood her bizarre food cravings inasmuch as any expectant father could, but that did not mean he had to think any of her insane concoctions were actually edible. (Chicken noodle soup with chocolate sauce. Marshmallow, spinach, and anchovy omelet. Chocolate sauce on her salad. Caramelized mangoes and italian sausage on a Belgian waffle. Pickles and Funyons dipped in chocolate sauce.)

He came to stand by her, leaning back against the counter as he watched what she made. Thor didn’t think she had the ability to throw him off anymore with her culinary creations, but she managed it as she slathered the pieces of bread with more peanut butter than he thought could physically be held by the slices, sprinkled at least half the container of curry powder onto the peanut butter, and then proceeded to use up the package of pepperoni on top of the peanut butter and curry power. Seeming unsatisfied, she headed back to the refrigerator, emerging with a bag of shredded cheddar cheese. She put a handful of the cheese onto the sandwich and she finally looked happy.

She deliberately smooshed the slices together, licking the sides of the sandwich where the filling squished out.

Thor made an only half-joking gagging motion, and Jane just laughed.

She bit into her sandwich, and the sound she made in response made him remember a different quirk of pregnancy that he was all too happy about. Seemingly unaware of his response, Jane smiled up at him, and moved to mimic his position against the counter.

"I did not think you had the capacity to disgust me with your food choices any longer," he informed her.

After swallowing her bite, she responded, “Well, I am just full of surprises.” A second later, she moaned again. “God, this is perfection. Why does this taste so good?”

"I would assume to most of humanity it doesn’t."

"Oh, only humanity? So I could maybe bring this recipe to Vanaheim the next time we visit and it would be a big hit?"

"Probably not Vanaheim, but you would be apalled at the things the Elves eat. Alfheim may very well welcome you as a culinary genius."

She took another bite, and after another interesting moan, she said, “Jesus, I hope this craving thing ends soon. Because I’m starting to get a hankering for sausage and bell pepper pizza. And we don’t have any frozen ones left. And they don’t do delivery this late.”

Thor groaned, knowing what was coming. “Jane, the hour is late, I do not think-“

"Our kid is very hungry. And if you don’t drive me to get a pizza I might cry." In fact, at the word ‘drive,’ Jane’s voice cracked. By ‘cry’ her eyes watered, and her tone had risen impossibly high.

Thor immediately scrambled, coming to stand in front of her. He cupped her face in his hands, desperately offering, “Love, do not cry. I will drive you wherever you like.”

In response, Jane threw her arms around him, sandwich still in hand. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

He bent down, kissing the top of her head. “No need to thank me. Like you said,” he pulled back, beaming down at her and placing a loving hand on her bump, “our child is in need of sustenance. What sort of father would I be if I disregarded such a need.”

Jane grinned back up at him, the tears averted (for the time being.) “I love you.”

"I love you, too."

"Can I bring the chocolate sauce?"

"Jane."

"Thor. Please?"

"… Fine."


	7. Couch Cuddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cuddles/Hugs meme; Couch cuddles

It’s strange to Jane that they can just have this.

He’s a damn Thunder God, a Crown Prince and yet he still flings himself onto their couch like a typical guy, flips on the television and motions for her to come lay down with him.

It has been a long day, and New York isn’t always the most relaxing place for Jane. The light pollution makes the stars invisible, and she hates that. She yearns for the wide open plains of New Mexico, with everything the Milky Way has to offer her splayed out above her head in brilliant fashion and the hard packed sand and scrub beneath her feet.

But after Thor happened, after London, after everything that had suddenly come straight to Earth’s doorstep, SHIELD wanted Jane easily accessible. And apparently, that wasn’t tiny, remote Puente Antiguo.

Although she can’t blame it all on SHIELD, as a flashy invite to Stark Industries arrived not long after they told her that they were moving her to New York City. And by flashy invite, she means Tony Stark “popping by to say hello on my way to save the world from yet another crisis” as he had called it in his complete Iron Man armor.

In the flurry of Fury arguing with Stark over “who gets the on-site astrophysicist” she somehow ended up at Stark Tower, sharing her results with SHIELD and sharing a lab and casually brushing shoulders with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner.

She was also up for a Nobel.

(Tony kept telling her it was no contest that she was going to win it. If he was right, she’d be one of the youngest ever to become a Nobel laureate. She’d also be the third of two other women who won the Physics prize, and one of those people was Marie Curie. _Marie. Curie._ In short, she really, _really_ wanted it.)

Over the moon would describe her at present. Her work with wormholes and the Foster Theories were now world-renowned, and she was suddenly considered one of the foremost experts not only in her beloved Einstein-Rosen bridges, but in theoretical astrophysics. Where she once had a silent lab where she would work in a self-contained world for weeks at a time without much contact with the science community at large, there was now phone calls, emails, and letters from prominent universities, research facilities, and fellow scientists reaching out to her, asking her to lunch, or coffee, or to speak at a seminar, attend this conference, and so on. She had never needed Darcy more, both to organize her schedule and field all the contacts.

She really knew she was in the big leagues when Oxford University offered to move a conference a few months back just so that she could attend. (It wasn’t long after that that she was nominated for the Nobel.)

Through it all, though, she had Thor. His pride in her was worth just as much to her as this success — the reason being that she’d never had that before, someone so unabashedly happy for her and proud of all her accomplishments. Her parents never quite got what her work meant to her, Darcy did her best but her lack of knowledge hampered her understanding, and Erik wasn’t around for an ego boost. Jane would never discredit the amount she owed to those people, and she knew that they all supported her, but with Thor it was just _different_.

Once she’d explained to Thor what a Nobel prize meant in this world, he had grinned so wide, picked her up and spun her around with a laugh (heedless of the fact that they were very much in a public place) and loudly announcing to the confused crowd that ‘this brilliant woman has been nominated for the very prestigious Nobel prize. Have you heard of it?’

Even though their lives are crazy (and would probably only get crazier) with Thor splitting his time between his duties on Asgard and being on Earth with her and the Avengers and her own work trying to create a functioning Einstein-Rosen bridge on Earth, they still find time to just be themselves.

In the quiet of their apartment in Stark Tower, they can just be Jane and Thor. No expectations, no pressures. They both need that more than anything.

The television’s volume is on low, some flick starring Clint Eastwood playing as Jane acquiesces to Thor’s prompting. She lies down in front of him, wiggling herself in a not-so-subtle manner to press her back against his chest, and her hips into his.

He growled deeply, chest rumbling as he pulled her closer, arm settling over her waist. “Vixen,” he teases quietly.

She smirks, but doesn’t respond, choosing to turn on the tablet in her hands. Instead of watching what she is 80% sure is _Dirty Harry_ , she scans through the data they’d collected today.

Jane should’ve known that Thor wouldn’t leave her for long with the way she was teasing him earlier. Her focus is pulled away from the numbers, giggling as he lays playful kisses across her face and down her neck, shamelessly preying on her ticklishness.

"Quit it, you goof. I really need to look this over before tomorrow," she insists, but quietly celebrates the way he knows exactly when to push her to leave her work for another day and when she truly needs to focus on it. It is one of the former times, and Thor knows it.

"I would like to contest that claim. You’ll likely wake before the sun to study as you usually do," he says before he adopts a different tone, "unless I can persuade you otherwise with other, more active morning pursuits."

 _Oh, those are great mornings._ “But if I look it over now I might — mm — be able to find something I missed the se-” she breathes in sharply as his kisses become less playful, and his hand wanders over her skin of her stomach beneath her camisole. “-second time,” she manages to finish.

She feels Thor smile against her skin as he moves to her bare shoulder, “Jane, your intellect is unparalleled in all the Nine Realms. I find myself doubtful that taking a break for a single night would not slow you down in the least.”

God, he knows exactly how to get to her. “Sweet talker,” she teases, and Thor knows he has won the battle. She places the tablet on the floor, turning in Thor’s grasp to face him fully.

They are pressed tightly together, and Jane leans in to kiss him.

She doesn’t think she’ll ever tire of this. Of _him_. This wonderful, flawed, beautiful, _perfect_ man. Despite their difficulties, (their lifespan difference, the fact that he is one day going to be king of Asgard, issues which they’ve decided to table until later because what they have right now is just too good to mess with) they just fit, and when she’s with him it’s like everything makes sense, and everything is exciting and new.

It’s terrifying and breathtaking, marvelous and unbelievable all at once.

She pulls back, their eyes finding each other. Jane smiles, feeling such a genuine warmth well up within her that hadn’t spawned from her arousal, but instead fed into it.

She doesn’t give in straight away to where they both know this evening is going. Instead, she slows them down, bringing both of her hands to his face and framing his features. One of her thumbs idly strokes along his skin.

"Jane? What is the matter?"

She feels like her face could split from all the grinning she has done, but this smile is small, soft, intimate. “I just really love you,” she tells him earnestly. That’s still a bit of a new thing with them. It feels good to say it; Jane thought it would be difficult (she isn’t always the most emotionally aware person) but it feels more like coming home. Like finding a piece of a puzzle you lost long ago, and now you found where it goes and it slides right in and then there’s the satisfaction that goes along with it.

That feeling is multiplied twentyfold when he smiles back at her, saying “As I love you, Jane Foster.”


	8. Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a gift for my wonderful friend thehalliebadger on tumblr who requested some Fosterson + cake.

So Thor and Jane have this thing about cakes. They're pretty terrible at making them, but that doesn't seem to matter much.

The first time is just for kicks.

Thor is learning how to do things Midgardian style, and honestly, whatever endeavor led to him having something to eat afterwards was a pretty good deal.

So they go to the grocery store and scope out a boxed recipe and a container or two (or seven) of frosting. They actually spend quite a bit of money on the shopping because it apparently takes more than a few boxes of Poptarts to keep an Asgardian fighting fit.

Not that Jane would complain.

They take their purchases home to their London flat (and it still takes some getting used to, calling it  _theirs_.)

They stir in the milk and eggs with a wooden spoon and Jane is struck again with how easy this is. It didn't seem like it would be, after he showed up on her balcony and said that he was staying on Earth. He's an alien, let alone a damn prince of another realm, so Jane thought that the domestic, the average, the banal would be wretchedly awkward.

But it's really not. It's fun and comfortable, even in the silence. Thor shares stories about his childhood, how he and Loki would sneak down to the kitchens and steal sweetbreads when they were supposed to be studying. (It gets easier to talk about Loki as each day passes.) As they slide the pan into the oven, Jane tells Thor about her research, and he supplements his own knowledge when he can.

They actually get a serviceable cake out of this first attempt, despite the distraction afforded by seven containers of frosting.

The second time is where it starts to go downhill as they discover the wonders of licking batter off each other's fingers.

They empty the bowl into the greased pan, and then slide it into the oven.

Jane enters thirty five minutes into the timer, but her eyes are drawn to the far more enticing sight of Thor's tongue sweeping across the lip of the bowl. Jesus, how is that amount of attractive even possible?

"Jane, I admit that while the cake is good, the batter seems far more palatable in its unbaked state."

"I suppose..." Jane catches her bottom lip in her teeth, eyes glued to his fingers as they gather the batter still left in the bowl and then travel to his mouth. "But it's..." Okay, he is definitely sucking  _way_ harder and with far more tongue action than is necessary.

He grins at the affect that he has on her.

In their haste to get to the bedroom, Jane forgets to set the timer.

They only remember they have a cake in the oven after they're sweaty and sated and every blanket has relocated from the bed onto the floor and the smoke alarm begins to blare.

The third time it's actually Darcy's birthday, and you'd think that this would mean they'd have focus and not end up making out on the kitchen floor while the cake itself sits, unbaked, in it's bowl on top of the oven and not actually in it.

It all starts with the batter eating again.

The cake batter just sits on the oven as they teasingly feed each other between kisses and smiles and jokes. The bowl barely has a few inches of batter left when Jane realizes they didn't preheat the oven.

"Well," Thor says, tone serious, "it would be a shame to waste so much time waiting for your convection device to heat. And for such a small amount of batter."

Jane nods solemnly, but a grin tugs at her lips. She takes the bowl from Thor, dipping and swirling a finger around in the batter in a way that's definitely so far from sanitary, but they aren't even baking the stuff at this point, so it hardly matters. "Oh, an absolute shame, to be sure. But, do you know what we could do with this?"

To give him a vague idea, she withdraws her finger, and runs it teasingly along her collarbone. He doesn't require any further convincing.

They wear matching carnal smiles, and when Darcy walks into the kitchen some time later, she screeches, "Okay, this is the _last_ time I'm ever letting you guys make cake!"

(It's not.)


	9. Fertility God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fill for someone asking for some "God of Fertility" hilarity. Toes the crack line, then gets kinda feelsy.

Jane had accepted her reality as a pretty awkward person, especially when it came to interpersonal interactions. If she needed to get something done, like, say, secure grant funding or defend her thesis or schmooze at a donor at Culver, she could do it. But as soon as her personal interests were at stake, she was generally not the best company. (See: Horrible Date With Richard. Thor Seeing Her Camper With Dirty Dishes. The list goes on.)

But she could absolutely say with one hundred percent mortifying certainty that  _this_ was the most awkward situation of her life. Ever. Anywhere. _Ever_.

She and Thor had been eating dinner with Erik. He’d been improving since everything went down in Greenwich, so his doctors granted him leave periods of 24 to 48 hours as long as someone signed for him. (She hated to think of him stuck in there. She hated to think of the reason he was there period, hated what Loki did to him with a vehemence that would hit her at the most random of moments and steal her breath. She wished she’d hit him _harder_ when she watched Erik struggle for words or watched him disappear into a world no one else can acknowledge but him.)

But he had some good days, when it was very hard to see the damage Loki wrought, and today was not quite one of those days, but pretty close. He was coherent enough to hold a train of thought and follow a conversation, but he would still blurt out random thoughts and memories that occured to him throughout.

"…so there’s Stephen, stuck with his hand in the door, I’m hiding in the bushes with the dog, when Mrs. Johan  _walks in the front door_.”

Both Jane and Thor laughed, and Jane asked, “So what did you two do?”

His eyes went blank for a moment and the grin fell off Jane’s face. Thor took her hand beneath the table, squeezing in silent support.

Then, without warning, Erik blurted, “Jane, are you and Thor having sex?”

Jane almost choked, and she could see Thor out of the corner of her eye looking to her for guidance. He looked like he could’t decide whether to laugh, be mortified, or proudly boast and didn’t wish to be impolite either way.

"Erik!" she exclaimed, "That’s hardly any of your business."

His hands were moving in his vehemence when he said, “I don’t mean to pry, but things could get dangerous.”

Jane began, “Erik-“

"Those stories my family told me about _you,”_ he pointed an accusing finger at Thor, ”when I was young were very specific about certain things!”

 _Try not to dissuade him from his tangents,_ his doctors told her. _If you try to convince him the reality he’s living isn’t real or isn’t worth your time, it could have catastrophic effects on his recovery._

Jane turned slightly to face Thor, mouthing silently, ‘Go with it.’

"And-and what did these tales tell of me?" he asked as eagerly as if he’d brought up the topic himself, and Jane really did love him in that moment so much.

Erik grumbled before saying, “You’ve got children all over the Nine Realms, and you’re the god of fertility.” He turned urgently back to Jane, “I fear that an average prophylactic will not be effective.”

"I can assure you, I have no unknown children running about the Realms, Erik Selvig. And perhaps the All-Tongue is simply having trouble translating, but a—prophylactic? I’m not certain what that is," Thor answered as honestly as he could, still looking helplessly at Jane.

Oh, this was _not_ the time to be discussing this (god, _later_.) She could only shrug at him, not knowing if she was doing any better than he at appeasing Erik.

"Ah!" Erik said in triumph, "So you _haven’t_ been using protection!”

Jane can feel an epic blush swooping up her neck. “Erik—we’re fine, I promise.” _I think?_ Honestly, this ‘God of Fertility’ talk had never really come up. They’re certainly  _careful_ , but the thought of alien super-sperm hadn’t occurred to her—

"How can you be sure? Perhaps you’ve contracted a sexually transmitted disease not found on Earth—"

Jane said, “Erik, we’re sure that that’s not—we had Dr. Banner make sure—”

"But Earth technology is so limited, you might not know for sure you’ve caught anything until you _drop_ _dead_ and—”

"Erik, I’m—how do Midgardians say— _clean_.”

"But how do you know Jane won’t become pregnant? You can’t even be a hundred percent sure with a _human_ partner and you’re not—”

Jane tried to break in with, “How about we—”

"I would assume responsibility for  _any_ child I fathered—”

Erik gasped, seeming to take Thor’s answer as some sort of confirmation. “ _Jane!_ Are you _pregnant_?”

"Oh god,  _no_ , Thor—” Shit, this conversation had completely and totally gotten away from her.

"Oh, the health complications that could be involved with carrying an alien child— _an Asgardian_ none the less could be devastating. Have you thought about that? Did you think about that before you starting having unprotected sex with Jane?” Erik asks accusingly.

Jane is about the reply, but Thor beats her to it, “Yes, Erik. I’ve thought about that.”

 _That_ certainly derails any train of thought she may have had before, and her head swivels to look directly at Thor. He seems aware of her gaze, but his eyes stay focused on Erik. “You know I’m committed to Jane, Erik, regardless of—”

They realize that Erik has zoned out again, and it’s only a few seconds later when he comes to, regaining his former mirth as he says, “And Mrs. Johan sees Stephen, but he can’t get free from the door! I’m still trying to keep the dog quiet—”

This time, it’s Thor who mouths at Jane, ‘We’ll talk later.’ She nods, and they both tune back into Erik’s story.

Sex doesn’t come up again at the dinner table that night, something for which Jane is very grateful.

After dinner, they take Erik back to the hospital, and he smiles and waves at them as he’s led by one of his doctors back to his room.

It was when they get back to the car that Thor broke the silence. ”I suppose we should talk now,” Thor said carefully, obviously gauging her reaction.

Jane was almost hoping that he’d forgotten.

He hesitated strongly, battling with his words, “Jane, I don’t wish to be untoward, and under normal circumstances I wouldn’t broach such a topic without prompting, but I’m afraid that much was said this evening and I feel that it would be beneficial for us to—”

God, he was trying so hard to be respectful and it just  _hurt_  with how much she was beating around the bush so she decided to put him out of his misery. “Look,” she interrupted, “You said those things to appease Erik. That’s fine, I’ve done it before too and not meant a single word of it. If I meant every single thing I’ve said to him when he goes off on one of his rants I’d have promised to break him out of the hospital, fly him to Hawaii, and ensure that he becomes the owner of a genuine coconut bikini. Also I might have volunteered to join him at a hoolahooping class at the Senior Center. Among other things. So yeah, you didn’t mean it, I understand, and it’s fine.”

She started her car, but the silence within the cabin was far too tense for what Jane had been going for. She looked over, and saw that Thor’s body language was stiff, and his expression complex. “Is that what you think? That when I said those things I merely said them to appease Erik?”

Well. That would certainly be the less scary option. “I don’t—I just don’t want to—to trap you in anything. I don’t know, I don’t want you to feel obligated. I’m just—I’m just little old me, the tiny mortal that is less preferable to a goat,” she finished, clapping her mouth shut because she’s saying far too many words.

She was about to put the car into gear when Thor’s hand stopped hers. Her eyes flicked up to meet his.

He pulled her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss there. “I’m here because I want to be. I’m _with you_ because I want to be. You know what a bullheaded arse I can be, my love. I’ll not be forced to do something I do not consent to.”

"I know, I just—" Jane closed her eyes tightly for a moment before opening them again. "You’re Thor. God of Thunder. An Avenger. The apparent God of Fertility," Thor chuckled at that, and Jane continued a bit more confidently, "I’m so bad at this," she gestured between them, "Relationships. I love you, but I don’t know how to make this kind of thing work. I always end up ruining it." Her eyes had fallen from his, and she focused on her free hand on the steering wheel.

"Look at me," he prompted gently. "Jane, please." She followed his prompting, and she watched as he placed her hand against his chest where she could feel the powerful beat of his heart, slightly faster than the average human’s. "Neither of us are particularly gifted at this. We are learning how to do this together."

She let out a breath. “I know, I know, and I’m sorry for making it about me—”

"You had every right to ask about my role in your life." A wry, warm smile lit up his face, "After all, I did admit that having a child with you would not cause me any unhappiness."

"Oh god, too soon. I love you for saying that, but too soon." The only thing that scared her more than loving Thor was…  _that._

"I know, love. I simply needed you to know." He released her hand. "Now, shall we return to our abode and see if we might tempt the fates tonight and test whether or not my title of Fertility God is accurately bestowed?"

Jane couldn’t contain her snort as she fell into a full laugh, putting the car into gear to begin the drive back to the apartment.

"That’s not actually a real thing, is it?" she asked.

He laughed heartily. “No, I don’t believe I’m imbibed with any sort of mystical advantage over any other man.” He leaned a bit closer to her so that his lips were dangerously close to her ear and she had to remind herself that she was  _driving._ “Aside from the gift of having you grace my bed, Jane Foster. Learner of the stars and Savior of the Nine Realms.”

She tried to hold back her smile, but failed, and began hunting for a discreet place to pull over.

"Oh my god. Oh my  _god_ , Thor, unbuckle your seat belt right this damn instant.”

Screw their apartment.


	10. Jane Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild Angsty Introspective Fic appeared! Yeah, no explanation or prompting for this one. It just kinda rolled on out.

She wonders when it will end.

It’s a bad habit she developed after one too many bad breakups and is only exacerbated by a man who is practically too good to be true.

So she wonders.

She wonders when they have to awkwardly navigate their first week together, because he’s just come from Asgard and tells her that he’s here on Midgard to stay. He doesn’t say what happened with his father, but he makes it clear he’s here for her and bless him, but that scares the living crap out of her. There’s the first awkward silence, when it seems like they have nothing in common and never will and Jane wonders because there’s only so much living a mortal can do in their limited lifespans.

She’s only a blink on his spectrum, and she can’t help but compare her not-even-thirty to his at-least-two-millenia.

There’s that first night, because her couch definitely isn’t big enough for him, but she doesn’t want to violate some sort of cultural tradition that he might hold by inviting him into her bed. She wonders because it’s so grossly obvious the differences in their cultures. Thor is a warrior from a society that values strength and courage over morality or knowledge. He was taught to celebrate death as a noble honor, to gladly send soldiers to their demise because it will put them at Valhalla’s gate.

She wonders because he’s the prince of a realm and she’s pretty sure he will be king one day. She is just Jane Foster, the scientist whose theories everyone scoffed at until a Norse God dropped out of the sky and proved her right. Not until SHIELD started chasing her work, chasing  _her_  for employment. She’s from Earth. Midgard.

Which is apparently less than a goat is worth in Asgard.

She wonders when he gets calls from the Avengers and goes off to save the world that she will inevitably hear about on the news in a few hours. She wonders because her heart is in her throat until he comes back, sometimes unscathed but sometimes bathed in blood, some that belongs to him and some that doesn’t.

She wonders when he comes home from these fights and he doesn’t let her take him in her arms, and doesn’t sleep anywhere near her that night.

She wonders when he awakens from dreams, dreams that are obviously about what happened in Svartalfheim. He never screams, only whispers Loki’s name maybe once, rarely twice. It’s always surrounded by a chorus of pained, strangled ‘No’s and each one stabs into Jane’s heart deeper than the last.

In the night, when he wakes from dreams and she can almost always spot the glisten of tears in the light from outside the window, they don’t need to say a word. Sometimes he needs to hold her close to him, tangling their legs and sharing the same breath, but most of the time Jane wordlessly spoons behind him, feeling like her arms are feeble protection against his demons.

But in those nights, when she understands what it means to love someone, she wonders when it will end because she needs to know how much pain she needs to prepare for, how high she needs to build her walls.

But then she wonders if it will have to end at all.

Because for all the awkwardness and stumbles, it gets harder to wonder. They’re both broken in different ways, but they fit themselves together anyway.

With him, things seem better and brighter, like she gets to see the wonder of her planet through someone else’s eyes. It reminds her of her love for science, and how the ground beneath her feet gave her a platform to look into the stars. She thinks of the stardust she’s made of, the stardust the planet below her is made of, the stardust Thor is made of, and somehow here they are, finding each other in the chaos and uncertainty of the universe.

He tells her about the Bifrost, about Yggdrasil, because for all his brash confidence and hammer swinging, Thor is an intelligent man. He has a way of explaining his world’s magic in a way that makes it translatable to her world’s science. He never complains about her unending questions. He answers with smiles, and she can feel his eyes on her as she works, can see the proud lilt to his smile when she looks at him.

It’s a heady feeling, to be supported in her work, to learn, to expand her theories. It’s a heady feeling to have someone who looks at her, at her work, and thinks  _This is good. This is worthwhile. I am proud._

It’s only after, when she’s alone, that she’ll wonder when she’ll have to give this up.

But with each day that passes, she wonders less.

She learns more. Not just about the stars, but about him. She learns how the Bifrost works, and she also learns that Thor and Loki were both bested by Lady Sif when they were cocky teenagers and she’d immediately fit herself into their lives. She learns universal constants and variables she wouldn’t have figured out until she was an old woman, and she also learns that there are apples in Idunn’s Garden that can turn anyone into an Asgardian.

It’s only much, much later, after the mess with Ultron, after she nearly lost him again; after it turns out she, of all people, is  _worthy_ (it’s a one time thing, she can feel it in her blood); after it’s enough for Idunn to grant her an apple; after she stands next to him at his coronation that she doesn’t have to wonder anymore.


	11. Neighbors AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the AU I’ve been mentioning forever and now just got around to posting. If I continue, this will be part 1 of 3, because I left so many dangling plot points that I’d love to explore. For now, it’s a standalone.
> 
> Nothing even remotely interesting has happened in Thor Odinson’s building for years. That is, until a gorgeous woman by the name of Jane Foster moves in right next door. Jane’s on the run from a dark past and was accepted into Oxford for their graduate program in astrophysics. OR How Jane and Thor learned to slow down and love movie night.

It all starts, quite literally, accidentally on purpose.

Because you see, nothing even remotely interesting has happened in Thor Odinson’s building for years. As has always been, Mr. Yansy lives to his right, and Camilla the Cat Lady lives across the hall, some guy who goes by the name Conrad Twitty and is supposedly a famous Elvis impersonator lives next to Camilla, and the unit to his left has never been rented.

That is, until she moved in next door.

 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” she cries in horror as her scalding coffee splashes down his front, probably staining his white t-shirt forever.

Honestly, he hadn’t really planned out how he was going to talk to her. All he knew was that he would bump into her, maybe apologize and then ask casually “Hey, aren’t you living in the flat next to me?”

Unfortunately, he’d underestimated her interest in the sheaf of papers clutched in her left arm while the steaming cup of coffee in her right hand was right in his path.

So now his meet-cute was morphed beyond recognition into trying to not cry in the middle of the hall because god _damn_  that coffee was hot.

And she does look completely horrified as her eyes and mouth are wide open and her hands flutter over him in a panic. She’s looking everywhere but his eyes and her horror is changing rapidly into panic, and suddenly Thor feels awful for even initiating this interaction in the first place.

“God, are you okay? I wasn’t looking—I just—please—I’m so sorry,” she continues her apology profusely, until he gently interrupts.

“It is no fault of your own, truthfully,” he says, trying to catch her eyes still.

She finally looks up, and he thinks she almost looked scared. “I should have been watching where I was going.”

“I must admit,” Thor said, “I wasn’t paying very close attention either.” He gave her one of his broad, disarming smiles, the ones all his exes told him made them feel very at-ease.

It must have worked its charm because she hesitantly returned it, only giving him a small taste of what he was sure was a beautiful smile. “Are you sure you’re okay? I always ask for my coffee as hot as I can get it.”

That doesn’t surprise him. He was almost worried about mild burning. “Aye, I believe I will be able to make a full recovery.”

There’s a small lull in the conversation, and Thor seizes his chance. “You live on the third floor, right? Unit 5?”

There’s something guarded about her then—her frame tenses slightly, lips flattening together—and she answers, “Yeah.”

“I’m Unit 4,” he explains, and then her slight smile returns, and her body relaxes.

“Good to know that I’ve managed to critically wound one of my only neighbors. And destroy one of his shirts.”

He laughs. “As I said, I’ll recover, and this shirt is of no consequence.”

“I really am sorry, and if you want, I can take your shirt to the dry cleaner’s,” she offers, the picture of sincerity and it makes Thor want to melt.

“You needn’t go to such lengths. All I ask for is your name.”

“I’m Jane. Jane Foster.” She sticks her now-empty hand out of him.

They’re both kind of covered in coffee, and Thor knows he’s going to be late for work now both because he can’t show up in a coffee-soaked shirt and he’s going to try to prolong this conversation as long as possible.

“Thor Odinson,” he returns, and her small hand is dwarfed in his. “It is very nice to meet you, Jane Foster.”

She pulls away from him, and says, “It was nice meeting you, too. And, er, I kind of have to be going.”

“Don’t let me keep you,” he says. “I’ll see you around.”

“I- yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you.”

**….**

Good things don’t just happen to Jane Foster. That has always been ardently clear to her. That’s why, when she’s accepted into Oxford with a full-ride to pursue her phd, her first thought was along the lines of  _This can’t belong to me. They sent this to the wrong address. This must be some elaborate joke._

As it turned out, it was no joke.

She hadn’t even applied to Oxford, but they purposefully sought her out because of her accelerated graduation for her undergrad, her quickly earned masters degree at Culver, and her thesis project studying the possibility of wormholes.

She’d always had much faith in her theories, but to have outright confirmation that others thought they were worthwhile as well was priceless.

In no time, the details were in place, her apartment in Boston was packed up, and she had a vacant flat a five minute walk from the university to move into when she arrived.

Nothing could drag her mood down, not even Darcy phoning her to warn her that Don was _definitely_ still looking for her. (“He came by the diner a few hours ago, asking where you’d moved, and that you’d changed all your contact info and he had no way to get in touch with you. Told me that he was just an old friend.” Darcy had scoffed. “As if I didn’t recognize that piece of trash. I told him that you got a job offer in San Francisco. I also gave him the phone number for my dentist.” Jane was worried when Darcy told her that last bit, knowing exactly what that man was capable of doing, but she tried to have faith in her tazer-toting, mace-wielding, karate yellow-belt carrying best friend.)

Despite her best efforts to keep it off her mind, Jane couldn’t help but watch over her shoulder for him, half expecting him to pop out from behind a decorative plant or be behind her in the security line as she dropped her carry-on and shoes into the plastic bin for the x-ray.

But he never was, and when she landed at Heathrow, she finally felt like the weights that had been on her shoulders for the past year were simply gone.

Her apartment (her  _flat_ , she sternly reminds herself) is lovely, and her summer semester has just begun and her classes are wonderful.

As satisfied and happy as she is now, two weeks after she’d moved in, she can’t shake the feeling in the back of her mind that this new life of hers is like a house of cards.

She’s walking from her last lab session of the day studying some of her new data readouts when she quite literally runs into him. Unfortunately, she’d just gone through a line at the small cafe on her way back home to get the hottest coffee they could brew her. The open cup had still been steaming when it was suddenly knocked into the stranger she hadn’t seen.

She gasped as some of the hot beverage spilled on her hand, but she was more worried about the guy she’d spilled on—it was down his entire front, soaking into his white t-shirt.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” she immediately says. God, she’s such an idiot sometimes. Why can’t she just have the common sense to look up while she is walking? Shit, and she doesn’t even have any napkins or  _anything_  to give him! It hurt enough to have that little bit spilled on her hand. “God, are you okay? I wasn’t looking—I just—please—I’m so sorry,” she says, cursing her inability to even probably apologize to the man.

He interrupts her train of thought, saying easily, “It is no fault of your own, truthfully.” His voice is deep, and she can’t quite place his accent, but the first thing that she truly notices about it is the warmth in his voice.

She finally looks away from the absolute mess she’s made and meets his gaze and notes that his eyes are almost the same blue as the nebula near the NGC 2074 star cluster. The next thing she realizes is that he’s huge, tall and broad with thick bands of muscle. “I should have been watching where I was going,” she tells him as apologetically as she can. He might seem nice, but she wouldn’t want to see him angry.

“I must admit,” he says with a smile growing on his face, “I wasn’t paying very close attention either.” Smiling, this stranger looks like a kind man.

She feels herself returning it. “Are you sure you’re okay? I always ask for my coffee as hot as I can get it.”

“Aye, I believe I will be able to make a full recovery,” he says playfully. There’s silence for a few beats, and Jane wonders if she should be offering to get him something to clean his shirt, until he says, “You live on the third floor, right? Unit 5?”

The curdle of dread in the back of her mind blooms and spreads.  _wouldn’t go this far, would he? Darcy told him San Francisco._  “Yeah.”

“I’m Unit 4,” he says, and then the curdle dies and she can breathe again.

“Good to know that I’ve managed to critically wound one of my only neighbors. And destroy one of his shirts.”

He laughs unexpectedly, as deep and warm as his voice. Jane finds that she likes the sound. “As I said, I’ll recover, and this shirt is of no consequence.”

“I really am sorry, and if you want, I can take your shirt to the dry cleaner’s,” she offers. He seems like a good guy, and the least she can do is try to make up for it.

“You needn’t go to such lengths. All I ask for is your name.”

“I’m Jane. Jane Foster.” Her free hand is covered in coffee still, but she figures he won’t mind, and she offers it to him.

“Thor Odinson,” he responds and takes her hand in his. He has a very firm handshake. “It is very nice to meet you, Jane Foster.”

She pulls away from him, and says, “It was nice meeting you, too.” She likes that she doesn’t have to lie about that fact. However, her attention is grabbed again by her readouts, which she wants to incorporate into her existing data pool as soon as she can. “And, er, I kind of have to be going.”

“Don’t let me keep you,” he says. He starts to back away, and says with a small wave, “I’ll see you around.”

She feels that smile tugging at her again. “I—yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you.”

**….**

He doesn’t see her for the next week. Thor starts thinking of more ways to bump into her while he observes the weight room. The air doesn’t smell of sweat, but instead of chalk and metal and leather, and the constant hum of the vents has become a permanent fixture in Thor’s life.

“Get lower on that squat, Reynolds,” he calls across to one of his students. “Those knees better be at ninety degrees or less.”

Reynolds says something cheeky back at him and he laughs.

It’s times like this when he’s glad he had that falling out with his father. If he hadn’t, he never would’ve had this.

**….**

She doesn’t see him for the next week.

God, she shouldn’t even be thinking about him. Look how her last relationship had turned out.

She’s in the lab, doing a hard data analysis under harsh fluorescent lights that echo off of the white tile floors. She’d collected almost all of the necessary data points and added them to the pool. Even though the computer was sorting them out, she couldn’t just sit back and relax. She has to determine how exactly the data pool will figure into her existing theory. The physics are second nature to her by now, and her mind can wander to his kind smile and his warm laugh and the NGC 2074 nebula blue of his eyes. Despite her best judgement, she hopes she runs into him again.

**….**

Luck is on Thor’s side it seems, because he sees her again, completely on accident, on his way to the basement laundry room.

They come out of their rooms at almost the exact same time, each with a basket of dirty clothes propped on a hip as they close and lock their doors.

“Good afternoon, neighbor,” Thor calls over to her as he slides his keys into the pocket of his sweats.

She looks over her shoulder, and he’s graced with a small smile when she sees it’s him. “Hi.” They begin their trek down the hall to the stairs side-by-side. A kind of awkward silence descends over them as the step down the stairs—-the kind that only comes when two people really want to talk to one another but have no clue what to say.

Jane is the one who breaks it. “So, how long have you lived here?”

“About three years now, give or take a few months. Yourself?”

“Almost a month now.”

“And what made you leave the Colonies for this dark, old isle?”

She giggles, and Thor is certain an angel just gained its wings. “Oh my god, tell me British people don’t actually call the US  _the Colonies_.”

“Are we not allowed to be bitter about the one that got away?”

They’ve reached the basement, and Jane turns and backs her way through the swinging door to the laundry room and says, “Unless you and I received very different history educations, I’m pretty sure it’s a bit more than  _one_  who got away.”

Thor follows her through the door, “Oi, no need to poke fun. And you never answered me.”

The smile on her face falls just a bit. “I got a full-ride to Oxford to get my doctorate.”

Of the things he’d been expecting her to say after her expression darkened that slightest bit, that was certainly not it. “That is incredible, Jane,” he tells her.

They take the washers that are next to each other and begin emptying them. Jane’s smile is back, fuller this time. “Thank you. I really love it here, and the free laundry doesn’t hurt.”

Thor adds his detergent and shuts the door. As he selects his cycle and pushes start, he asks, “What is your doctoral degree in?”

Both of their machines start, but neither of them make any moves away from them yet. “Theoretical astrophysics.”

He lets out a breath, impressed. Not only beautiful, but smart enough to land a scholarship for  _theoretical astrophysics_. Jane Foster was certainly something else. “Incredible. You’re incredible.”

She blushes deeply, much to Thor’s delight. Her cheeks and neck are flushed, and her smile hasn’t faded. “Th-thank you,” she manages, eyes downcast. Her fingers tap on the top of the washer before she looks up, traces of shyness gone save for the blush that was barely starting to fade. “So in Oxford are there weird laundry thieves just like we have in the Colonies?” she asks.

“Unfortunately. I wouldn’t advise leaving it alone,” he answers.

“So guard duty it is.”

“Aye. A solemn post.” He hesitates for only a fraction of a second before offering, “If you’ve somewhere to be, I can keep watch for both of us.”

“That wouldn’t be fair, though, would it? Then I’d owe you another favor.”

He’s elated by her answer, but a part of it gives him pause. “You owe me a favor?”

“Well, there was the whole business with the coffee. I doubt you’ve forgotten. I need to do something to make it up to you.”

He leans back against his washer, tapping his chin in overt contemplation. “I suppose I can’t ask for your first-born, can I?”

She bites her lip cheekily. “Decidedly off the table.”

“Ah. Then I’m going to save my favor for another time, then.”

**….**

They sit in the laundry room while their clothes wash, on two plastic chairs that wouldn’t look out of place in a retro 80’s kitchen.

She learns that he’s 27 years old. She tells him that she’s 23. (“And yet you’re pursuing a doctorate?” “Yes.” … “I suppose I was under the impression that there was an age requirement.” “Shush, I was advanced.” She tries not to show how much his respect and enthusiasm means to her.)

She learns that he loves dogs as well, and they each launch into stories about their pets from their childhood. By the time they finish their complaints about how outrageous the pet fees are in the building or they’d each own one, their washing is finished.

As they move their clothes to the dryer, Thor tells her that he grew up in a town called Weybridge, and when she informs him she has no clue where that is, he tells her it’s about twelve kilometers outside of London.

She fondly remembers growing up in the New Mexico desert, just her and her mom. (“She was a biology professor, so she always was looking down at the ground, telling me to look at this plant and that lizard. It drove her nuts that I was always looking up at the stars.”) She doesn’t offer any information about her dad, and he doesn’t ask. She’s grateful because she doesn’t want to dump her issues on him, and that’s when she realizes how easy and open this conversation has been. It’s been the most comfortable she’s felt around anyone since Darcy.

They range all over the spectrum after that, talking about their favorite colors (Thor’s is red, Jane’s is purple), their jobs (Jane is currently unemployed, and Thor works as a strength and conditioning coach for a local high school), and what they would name their theoretical dogs (Jane’s would be Hypatia, and Thor’s would be Hendrix.)

All too soon, their respective dryers blare, and their conversation is only interrupted as the pull their clothes out of the dryers. She doesn’t even blink at the fact that she’s probably giving him gratuitous looks at her underwear.

“I’ve thought of my favor,” Thor says as he straightens.

“Oh?”

“Have dinner with me.”

She shouldn’t want to say yes so badly. “At some ritzy place where the wine costs more than my entire wardrobe?” she asks dubiously.

He chuckles. “No—-well, not yet anyway,” he says with a little wink. “You come over to my flat and I’ll cook you dinner, you bring the movie, and I’ll walk you home.”

She laughs at that last part. “Do you promise to walk me  _all_  the way home?”

“The whole ten steps.”

“Then I’m in.”

**….**

He makes the best lasagna she’s ever had, and they end up lounging across his comfortable leather couch in front of  _Toy Story_. Because Jane doesn’t trust anyone who doesn’t like  _Toy Story_. She figured she’d wait to bring out Star Wars because she doesn’t want to inundate him with how much useless knowledge she has about it. (I mean, telling her dates that Cloud City on Bespin was commissioned to be built by Lord Ecclessiss Figg in 400 BBY has never worked out well for her.) A part of her is startled that she’s already thinking about next time.

When he eases his arm across the back of the couch behind her, she doesn’t hesitate in leaning into him as Woody and Buzz infiltrate Pizza Planet on the screen.

While they watch, they trade commentary and jokes; it feels like there’s a permanent grin on her face and her stomach is tight with something like anticipation.

When the credits roll, Jane finds that she’s disappointed. She doesn’t want to leave yet. Being around him is as natural as breathing and yet as exhilarating as finding the perfect solution to a problem she’s been puzzling over for months.

He helps her off the couch, and follows through on his promise of walking her all the way home.

The grin is still on her face when she says, “I had fun. Your lasagna was amazing.”

“Thank you,” he pauses. “Perhaps we can do this again sometime?”

She’s nodding before he finishes his question. “Yes, absolutely. Tomorrow? We could swap, I cook and you bring a movie to my place?” She’s inexplicably nervous. Is tomorrow too soon? Crap, she should’ve googled  _What is the appropriate amount of time before seeing someone again for a date_  or  _How to not be awkward about things._

The bundle of unease fades though when he says, “I would like that very much.”

“Great!” Now comes the only part of the evening that she was truly not sure if she would be able to handle. Would he kiss her? Would she be okay with that? So much of her wants to, but the scarred and battered walls around her heart, erected for so many reasons, but Don jumps into her mind for the first time… since yesterday. She hadn’t thought of him once that entire evening.

That fact makes her feel so free, but at the same time like she is being detained by his memory because it’s like he’s still  _in her life_  when she doesn’t want him to be.

Thor leans down, and her heart rate picks up. He places a delicate kiss on her cheek, the light scruff on his face scraping across her skin. (Suddenly, she is absolutely sure she could get into beards. Oh yeah.)

She lets out the relieved breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he says upon pulling back.

Jane smiles her own goodbye and enters her apartment. After she closes her door, she lets herself fall back onto it, sliding down until she’s seated with her legs splayed out in front of her.

She feels so good about tonight, something she had been both expecting and not. She hasn’t done the dating game in so long, and she hadn’t really been thinking about it when she accepted his invitation.  _No, you were thinking that he was a nice, handsome man who wanted to have you over._  It just felt easy to be near him. Most potential partners she’d encountered since she left Don had only managed to set her teeth on edge and make her feel uncomfortable.

And there he was again.

_Don._

She wishes she could just purge every single memory of him, of everything he’d done to her, of everything he’s made her incapable of. Would it have been so hard to initiate a kiss with Thor? No, and she should’ve been able to. God knows she had  _wanted_  to. The thought of kissing a man shouldn’t give her pause. The thought of dating a man shouldn’t make her fear how it was going to end.

Yet here she is. Twenty-three and damaged goods.

She presses the heels of her palms into her eyes.

“Why do you always do this,” she mutters to herself. “Just be happy it was a good date. You had fun. Focus on that.”

(Beneath her angst, there’s a deep well of happiness knowing she’s going to see him tomorrow.)

(Oh, god. She has to cook tomorrow.)

(Shit.)

**….**

And so  _Toy Story_  and lasagna leads into  _Aliens_  and bacon cheeseburgers and beer, and Jane’s not going to lie, she’s at least eight times more attracted to him now because of his taste in movies.

**….**

Thor had been nervous about choosing  _Aliens_. He isn’t sure if she’s the type to hate sci-fi movies because of their scientific inaccuracies, or maybe she just doesn’t like this movie, maybe she doesn’t like scary movies… He suddenly wants nothing more than to run back to his apartment and grab the much more innocuous  _Up_  off of his shelf, but she’s opening the door in a beautiful, green, v-neck sweater. Her eyes light up when she sees what he’s brought and he wants to pump his fist in the air.

She ushers him in, and he can hear the sounds of something sizzling in the kitchen. Her apartment is a carbon copy of his own, unsurprisingly, although Jane’s retains a spartan quality that his does not. There isn’t any decoration on the walls, and there are only a few pictures. It’s breathtakingly obvious that she’s a student, with only economic furniture, the lingering smell of Chinese takeout covered by what was obviously a fast spray of Febreeze, and a backpack resting off to the side of the door. He’s sure that if he’d come a few hours before, her coffee table probably would’ve been strewn with old takeout boxes, textbooks, and papers.

She heads into the kitchen and tells him to make himself at home, and he wanders through the living room. There are three framed photos: one that looks relatively recent of Jane and another woman who is taller with raven-colored hair and a huge smile, while Jane smiles, tight lipped but with her eyes alight; another that looks slightly faded by sunlight that shows Jane absolutely  _beaming_  in a black graduation gown and cap with a golden tassel with several cords and a deep purple honor stole hanging around her neck, and an older woman he assumes is Jane’s mum based on how similar they look with her arm around Jane; the last one is an old polaroid, very much faded with age, of two people (her parents?) whose foreheads rest together against an orange sunset.

He has the sudden urge to know everything about Jane Foster, wants to see her apartment in disarray, the way she wakes up in the morning, to know why she only has these three pictures out, where she got all the books on her shelves… It seems like too much and not enough.

**….**

_Aliens_  and bacon cheeseburgers goes well, and Jane knows what she wants to do when she walks him the ten steps to his apartment door.

She’s not going to let a ghost of her past ruin her present, especially when her present is this beautiful, kind, gentle giant who likes  _Toy Story_ and sci-fi.

She curls her hand around his on the last two steps, and comes to a stop standing right in front of him. She tries to think of something to say to him, mouth opening and closing again in a few false starts. She can’t say that she had a great time again; that would be redundant. Also pointless, because they both know that this is definitely worth pursuing. “Oh, screw it,” Jane says finally, and yanks him down to her lips back the back of his neck.

She feels his smile on her lips, and that makes her kind of smile to, and then they’re both basically laughing while mashing their lips together, so they pull back, and Thor asks, “Surely, the prospect of kissing me doesn’t seem so monstrous that you must prepare yourself to do so?”

She’s not going to be opening this can of worms tonight. The grin still stays on her face when she says, “Oh, absolutely not, that’d be one-hundred percent me. In fact, I like the prospect of kissing you so much, I think I’m going to do it again.”

She does. The lightness in her heart makes her feel as if she could fly.

**….**

They eventually go to that fancy restaurant. They buy expensive wine just because, and neither of them really know what half of the things on the menu are, but it doesn’t matter because it’s just too much fun to tease and laugh and wonder what kind of thing will come out on their plates.

Jane never realized how wonderful it feels to not wonder what he’ll want in return.

**….**

Their goodnight kiss grows in fervor, and as Jane opens the door to her place, pulling Thor in with her, they don’t stop kissing.

This hadn’t been his plan when he took her out that night—not in the least. He’s hardly a chaste man, but there is something that is precious about Jane, something about her that makes him want to wait for her, let her make the move.

She’s certainly making that first move now as they trip over themselves to shed their shoes by her door, stumbling to her bedroom.

His hands run up her silk-clad sides, feeling her ribcage push against his hands as she breathes. God, she’s beautiful, and the red dress that slides over her skin does nothing to quell his desire for her.

It’s only when he feels her hands beneath his suit coat shaking like leaves that he pulls away from her, her lips chasing his as he rises.

Her pupils are blown wide, lips parted as she pants, and he wonders briefly if he’s seen anything quite so exquisite before.

As they lose their clothes between playful kisses and passionate touches, he’s quite certain he hasn’t.

**….**

That night, when he loves her with his mouth and beautiful words and his eyes, she’s paradoxically glad and terrified that her scars are on the inside where no one can see them.

She can have him until he realizes how broken she is.

He makes her come, and the sensation startles her more than anything, and she can’t remember the last time it happened, but it wipes her mind of anything besides  _him_  and  _needing him inside her_.

The night is lost to heavy breaths, murmured words of devotion and sliding hands.


	12. Star Wars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked: OMG Can you imagine Thor watching Star Wars and realising that a certain character looks exactly like his beloved Jane?? :)
> 
> I’m sure this wasn’t meant to be a prompt but whelp.

“I must admit, the premise of these films sounded… very peculiar, but it’s quite intriguing.”

“I know. They’re some of my favorites. The science is  _entirely_  bullshit, but you know, I really don’t care.”

They’re spread across the couch watching the second film of the prequel trilogy. Thor is the world’s warmest big spoon and Jane can feel his heartbeat against her back, his chin against her hair whenever he speaks.

“I’d like to procure myself one of these lightsabers.”

She giggles. “And I’d like to see how Mjolnir would hold up against them.”

He squeezes his arms around her midsection, just enough to push the air from her lungs in a laugh. “Mjolnir is the most steadfast weapon in all the realms. A simple lightsaber would not be enough to rend it to pieces.”

“Yeah, yeah, forged in the heart of a nebula, I get it.”

They descend into contented silence, and it’s only when Padmé steadfastly insists that she and Anakin are to save Obi-wan that Thor comments, “The senator reminds me of you.”

Jane scoffs. “What? How did you make that connection?”

“Well, she fights fiercely for what she believes in. She rarely allows herself flights of personal fancy in light of her duties to the Senate. We know that she is capable of falling in love quickly–”

“We don’t actually know that yet–”

“Oh please, I’ve seen the way she looks at Anakin–”

“That’s not confirmation,” Jane says, hoping to keep the Star Wars newbie in the room as surprised as possible at the unfolding events.

Thor’s brow furrows adorably as he considers this, that Padmé might not love Anakin as he loves her.

Of course, Jane’s argument is destroyed not much later.  _I truly, deeply love you._

Thor’s grin is nothing short of victorious. “I knew it.” Not a moment later, he adds, “She says ‘I love you,’ just like you do as well.”

Jane loves Padmé as much as the next girl, but really? “C’mon, no I don’t.”

“You said you’ve seen these films more times than you can count.”

“Yeah.”

“So how have you not yet noticed that the two of you look exactly the same?”

“What? No we don’t. She was a queen, and look at how she  _rocks_  that destroyed battle suit. No way, I’m sticking to my flannel, thank you very much.”

Thor’s only answer is to give her a very pointed look.

“We look nothing alike,” Jane insists.

Thor only smiles. “Whatever you say, my love.”

It’s a few days later when she hears Steve and Thor commiserating over their varying experiences with watching Star Wars that she hears Thor proudly proclaim Padmé Amidala to be his favorite character.

She has to stifle a grin for the rest of the day.


	13. In the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Day 7 of Fosterson Week, "Future of the Ship."

**I.**

This isn’t the way it should’ve been. But then, Thor realizes he’d been a fool for expecting it to turn out any differently.

She’d told him once they were from different worlds. Separate for a reason.

He realizes the inappropriate nature of what he’s doing, but he can’t quite bring himself to care. It’s not romantic, nor is it a kind gesture. It’s sad and pitiful and he hates himself that much more every time he comes. Somehow it had been better after he’d broken the Bifrost. Then, there had been at least been some sort of promise, of hope. Of her looking for him. If anyone in the realms could recreate the Bifrost, he would’ve bet on her.

She’s unloading new parts for her equipment from her car. She uses a cane now, but she thinks it’s because of a car accident a few years ago. She doesn’t know that it was from when she saved all the Nine Realms, from that brief moment of time the Mjolnir found her worthy and she’d become the savior that he was always meant to be.

That notion would have made him smile, once.

Her companions, Darcy and Erik, do not remember him either. The Allfather’s last act of power was far-reaching. Odin believed he was doing Thor a favor by disposing of Jane Foster in the most humane way he could. In a way, his father was right, but still–

She smiles gratefully when Darcy nabs a particularly heavy-looking device from her vehicle, her face alight with eagerness.

He misses her so much, and it still feels like a knife to his gut.

He can feel his magic stirring, the urge to call a storm to release his emotions, but he holds it in check. Jane will want to go onto her rooftop to look at the stars tonight, and he won’t cover them. There isn’t much he can do for her, not anymore, so he can do this.

He watches as Jane gets ready to go inside, but before she goes, she turns.

He feels his heart jump into his throat for a moment when he sees that smile that was always _his_  smile until he sees who it is intended for. Keith Kincaid isn’t a bad man; he’s a medical doctor, has a clean record (he did not ask Stark to check for him, but he wasn’t going to  _not_ look at it once the information was in front of him.), volunteers on his free weekends at several nonprofits, has 134 friends on Facebook, and is by all counts a good man.

He adores Jane. He gifts her with a smile and a kiss on her cheek, and she takes his hand. Early on, it took everything in Thor to remind himself not to charge over and–

She’s not his anymore. Even when she was, she would never have approved of that.

He’s glad, at least, she’s found someone to care for her. Found someone she cares about in return.

The fates can only laugh that it wasn’t him.

**II.**

She doesn’t cry when it happens.

Can’t.

There was always this unspoken assumption that he would outlive her. They hadn’t much talked about their future like that. They kept putting it off. The reasons they’d done so had seemed great at the time–Jane was on a long, arduous lecture circuit to major universities around the globe; she was revising all her research and answering inquiries about what she’d already published; Thor was busy with the New Avengers when he was on Earth; and when he wasn’t, he was still peacekeeping around the realms and trying to choke out the flames of the unrest that had sprung forth after the breaking of the first Bifrost.

The reasons they’d done so had seemed great at the time.

She wonders if that makes it better somehow. Since they didn’t draw up their future, she has nothing to miss now that he’s not here to live that future with her.

(She’s lying to herself.)

(It makes it worse.)

They have a funeral service for him. They don’t have his body. That was taken back to Asgard, and despite Heimdall’s best efforts, he couldn’t get her past Odin for the ceremony in the Realm Eternal. She’d grown to be friends with the Gatekeeper, and he’s even gone against orders to attend the small service on Midgard, embellished gold armor and all.

(Thor’s friends come too. They treat her like his widow.)

(Sif brings her his cape. Jane can’t imagine what she had to do to get it, so she throws her arms around the taller woman, and they share in their grief silently.)

The rest of the Avengers are there, and a large number of the staff from the New Avengers facility. She realizes during the speeches that these people aren’t just attending because it’s the death of an Avenger–they’re attending because they met Thor and he touched their lives in some positive way.

A woman who is a janitor shares that Thor would make sure to send a small raincloud for her rosebushes every Thursday. (When she hears that, she cracks the first genuine smile she’s had on her face in weeks.) A computer technician revealed that Thor would often leave Mjolnir on top of important documents just to troll them. Steve talks about how he and Thor bonded over being fish out of water in this new world, and how they found common ground over both being involved in the grand theatre of war. Natasha speaks quickly, but earnestly, and everyone at the funeral party pointedly ignores the way she nearly collapses into Clint’s arms when she returns to her seat. (That, more than anything, she thinks, is what makes her cry.)

Returning home is worse. Before the funeral, there was some sense of purpose–there was something that she needed to work towards, put one foot in front of the other for. Now, though, now the emptiness screams at her.

His clothes are still hanging in the closet. His shampoo is still in the shower. The last load of laundry is a combination of her shirts and his socks. His scent lingers in their bed.

That night after the funeral, she doesn’t sleep.

Many of her academic accolades hang on their walls (her walls, now. Just hers.) and they once made her feel so full, and it kills her that she misses his validation. His delight and smiling face when she accepted her Nobel. The way he curled into her at night, the way she curled around him when they needed it.

That night after the funeral, she gets absolutely pissed drunk. She’d decided once that she’d never drink by herself, but she breaks it because who the fuck even  _cares_  anymore.

She cries with the bottle of Jameson in her hand because no matter how much she tells herself it doesn’t hurt that they didn’t plan for the future, it hurts.

It hurts because they’d always assumed they would have the time.

**III.**

It’s no one’s fault, in the end.

They’re busy people. Jane’s constantly out of the country giving lectures, and Thor’s constantly having to save the world. Looking back, it’s no surprise it ended the way it did.

They drift, and drift, and drift, and suddenly it’s like sleeping next to a stranger.

Thor misses her. He knows she misses him too, but the chasm between them began to grow one day, and they hadn’t noticed it until it became to wide to bridge.

“This isn’t working,” Jane says one night.

He knew this was coming. She’d been staying less at their place in New York, and more of her belongings had migrated back to New Mexico, and this was the first time they’d both been in the same room for more than a few hours in weeks.

Despite knowing, it doesn’t make this easier. “I know,” he answers.

She looks gutted, and part of him wishes he could give her a better answer. “I wish we didn’t–” she sighs in frustration. “I don’t know how to make us work. We didn’t even have to think about it, back in the day.”

“I don’t know either.” His heart is breaking, but this is inevitable. It began the day she hit him with her van. “I’ll always love you, Jane Foster.”

She takes a deep breath. “And I’ll always love you, Thor Odinson.”

When they have each other that night, it isn’t making love or sex or a cliché-ridden affair. It’s soft goodbyes and they both shed tears, and neither of them comment on it.

She’s gone before he wakes the next morning, the last traces of her cleared out of the apartment.

He misses her, but honestly, he missed her when they were still together, so it’s not as jarring a change as he feels like it should’ve been.

**IV.**

“That was simply stupid,” Thor hissed as soon as they passed through the threshold of their apartment.

She felt her anger flare, and felt the Aether respond to her emotion, but she held it in check. “Excuse me?”

“Being infused with an Infinity Stone does not make you invincible, Jane. Why on Earth did you rush in there without backup? If you’d waited five minutes, the Falcon would’ve been there.”

She snorted. “Being infused with an Infinity Stone nearly does make me invincible, actually, and if I’d waited five more minutes, all of those civilians would’ve been dead.”

Thor argued, “You’re not indestructible or infallible. You only just gained control of the Aether. What makes you think you wouldn’t lose control around those very civilians you were trying to save?”

She remembered back to the war over the Infinity Stones all those years ago, how the Aether had abandoned Thanos and chosen her. It wasn’t as unpredictable as it had been. Thor didn’t understand, and she nearly punched him for it. He’d seen her training, had held her hand and encouraged her. In her haze of anger, she could see the red and black of the Infinity Stone she commanded shining through the skin at her wrists, so she calmed herself, pushing the Aether back into the recesses of her body. “You aren’t the one with the Aether in you, Thor. I am. I trained for years to master it. I am no more dangerous than you are with Mjolnir. Why now?” she asked. “Why are you getting all patronizing all of a sudden? I’ve been on missions with the Avengers before. I’ve had some close calls before. Why now?”

The fight seems to drain out of him, and Mjolnir thuds as it hits the floor.

“Do you remember what you did? To save everyone?”

She gulped. One of the most dangerous things she’d learned in mastering the Aether was how to discharge it through every pore in her body. She was warned that if she wasn’t careful, it could rip her body apart. She was also warned that it would be extremely painful.

“Yes.”

She didn’t regret what she’d done. Yes, it had been extremely painful–like pulling apart the atoms of her body and then pushing them back together again. But the only one who had been there had been Sam. She figured that  ~~if she lived~~  if she passed out, he could get her out of there.

She hadn’t wanted Thor to see it.

“I was just on the edge of the building when I saw you–when I  _heard_  you–”

“Hey,” she said, moving to embrace him. “I’m okay. The Aether wants to keep me together. We have a pretty symbiotic relationship.”

“It’s not the Aether that I worry for,” he said. “It’s the blind bravery of the woman wielding it.” He sounded less torn, so she pulled away and looked him in the eye.

“Now you know how I felt every time I sent you off to battle,” she said.

That made him smile. “Yes, and you are far more steadfast than I could ever hope to be.”

“Except I couldn’t even be there to check up on you and save your ass when need be.”

“That was one time.”

“And it’s going to be a lot more buddy, because you better believe I’m in this for the long haul. Are you going to be able to handle that?”

He looked proud, and her heart lit up. “Yes, I will.”

**V.**

There were things that Thor hated about being king. Endless meetings with advisors, tiresome peace talks with warring factions, diplomatic journeys, and, worst of all,  _Budgetary Council_.

There were some things, though, that he’d never regret.

“Daddy!” cried Val as she raced up to him on yet unsteady legs. Her arms were raised, and he took his cue to swoop her into the air.

She squealed in delight and settled into Thor’s arms. “Hello, little love.” He looked to the corridor where Val had sprinted from, and was delighted to see his queen striding towards them.

Jane had taken to Asgard well. She held herself much like his mother had, and her grace and poise were reminiscent of Asgard’s former queen as well. She wore the color of his house, the deep red complimenting her features and he wondered once again how he’d been so lucky to have such a beautiful woman with a beautiful heart fall in love with him.

“She simply couldn’t wait to see Daddy until he got back from the throne room,” Jane explained. “I’m assuming we didn’t interrupt?”

“No. I finished with the petitioners hours ago. Several advisors needed to have words with me, however.” Jane nodded, and he knew they’d discuss business later when Val was tucked away for the night.

“Daddy, I wanna show you what Aunt Sif taught me today,” Val proclaimed excitedly. “I know how to do sword stuff now!”

“Sword stuff, you say?”

She giggled and nodded. “Yeah, she said I should be able to knock you on your butt!”

Thor grinned. “Did she now? Well, I may have to attempt to defend my honor.”

“Val, why don’t you go grab the sword that Sif gave you and come back and show Daddy your sword stuff?” Jane suggested, looking pointedly at one of the palace guards who nodded in understanding.

Val was delighted at the suggestion, and when Thor set her down, she was racing up the corridor, and guard racing after her.

Val’s parents watched her go with smiles on their faces until Thor asked, “So this sword Sif gave her–”

“Wooden,” Jane assured, “Not a real sword. What kind of aunt do you take her for?”

Thor raised a brow. “The kind who certainly had a genuine sword at Val’s age.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. Sif’s a really great teacher, you know. We’re going to have a tiny Valkyrie on our hands soon enough.”

“Because she already isn’t a lot to handle.” Thor smiled down at her. Despite being made Asgardian, she hadn’t gotten much taller, a fact he delighted in often. “So how are you today, my love?”

Jane sighed. “Been better, my king.” She only called him that when they were in official meetings or when she was feeling cheeky, so hopefully her day wasn’t all bad. “I got to spend a lot of time this morning curating the Midgardian section of the library, but the rest of it was spent in Budgetary Council.” She scowled. “I’m so glad it’s your turn next month to go to those things.”

“Delightful.”

They snuck in a quick kiss before they heard the patter of small feet and the labored breathing of a palace guard who clearly hadn’t anticipated the speed and veracity of Val Thordottir. “Daddy, come see!”

Jane raised a brow, “Duty calls, Daddy.”

Yes, there were some things Thor could have done without in becoming king. But looking on the smiling face of his wife and his child, he realized he wouldn’t change a damn thing.


	14. Missing Each Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Combing through old prompts to try to clear out my tumblr inbox, and came across this one:
> 
> I want a fic where Thor and Jane talk about what draws them together even being from different worlds and knowing each other so short a time. That song Heart by Heart by Demi Lovato can give the inspiration. I heard it and though OMG it's Thor and Jane!
> 
> I didn't listen to the song, which I assume is happy, because this one did not turn out happy.
> 
> Set vaguely post-AOU.

“Why are we even doing this?”

It’s a desolate, painful question, voiced like a confession and said into the darkness of their bedroom.

Jane’s words stab through Thor’s heart, but he can’t deny that he feels it to.

“I mean, really. I’m… I’m trying to be logical here. Rationally speaking, we barely see each other. You hardly ever know where I am, I hardly ever know where you are. I just–” He hears her swallow. He can picture the look of agony on her face, much, much different from the frantic, pleasured look he’d inspired in her not that long before. “I feel like I miss you all the time. I miss you when you’re gone, and when you’re here, I miss you right now because I know you’re going to have to leave soon.”

He closes his eyes, wishing that the reality they’ve created was different somehow. “I miss you, too. I hate to think… to think that we cause each other so much pain.”

He turns his head to look at her. Her refined profile is outlined in the dim light, eyes watering with unshed tears. She must see him turn in her periphery, and she turns her body to face him. Despite being sated and satisfied, he still feels the urge to run his fingers along her bare shoulder, to trace the lines of her collarbones with his lips simply to show her how much he loves her.

He reaches over to take her hand in his. His heart is lightened by her twining her fingers with his. He tells her, “I like to think that the good moments outweigh the bad.”

“But there’s only so many good moments…” Jane says.

Thor lays a kiss to her knuckles, trying to inspire the memory of wild passion and possibility that had enveloped them when they first met. Her breath catches, her brown eyes dancing, the tears dying away, and he knows he’s succeeded.

“Do you know why I fell in love with you, Jane Foster?” he asks.

“The exotic alien woman hitting you with her transportation device is charming in Asgard?” she says weakly, her joke falling a bit flat.

Thor grins anyway. “Because of that. The way you can joke without even trying. The way that you wake up in the mornings. The way you quietly, but authoritatively demand what is yours. When you’re focused, whether it be your work or or talking with Bruce and Tony or when we make love, you get this look that tells me no one will stand in your way. Because of your passion,” he moves closer to her, so close that he can feel the her warmth but not the smooth texture of her skin, “Your bravery. You have stood by my side when my friends could not. You are unfailingly clever, unflinchingly blunt. And above all… you persevere. You persevere even if you can’t see an end in sight, if no one believes in you except yourself.” He cups her face with his other hand. “Regardless of what challenges we face, we’ll always have this. This love we have is rooted as deeply as Yggdrasil.”

She sighs, turning to lay a gentle kiss on his palm. “I know. I wasn’t always able to explain it to myself, why I was so desperate to find you,” Jane said then. “Part of it was my work, and all the new pieces I had, but there was… it was more personal. I just somehow wanted you to know that I’d succeeded. I love you because you never made me feel like I’d failed. Even if I wasn’t receiving all this recognition, I would still feel like the biggest damn winner on the planet because I have you. You’re so warm, and loving, and I’ve never met anyone with the same amount of stubbornness that I have. I love that we fight.I remember my Dad would always tell me that it’s a good sign when couples fight because it clears the air and it shows a level of trust that we’re going to deal with it together. I never had that with anyone else. I like that you can show me life outside of my work without being overbearing. I’m not going to lie and say I don’t love the fact that you singlehandedly proved every single one of my theories by falling out of the sky.” Her grin matches his as his thumb begins to smooth over her face, lightly tracing the lines of her eyebrows, over the bony ridge of her temple, and down the fine line of her jaw, ending on her chin. “Is it so ridiculous of me to want you around all the time?”

“No, my love, because I want you around all the time.”

“I’m sick of missing you.”

“As am I.”

“What are we gonna do about it?” She covers one of his hands with hers.

It hurts. “I don’t know.”

They curl together tightly that night, hoping against reason that if they hold onto each other tightly enough, they won’t slip away the next morning.


	15. Avengers Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m combing through my inbox to try to get all the old prompts out and get the writing juices a-flowin. This is probably from Thanksgiving two years ago, god bless, and I’m finally getting around to it. And posting it late, which is just classic Molly fic writing.
> 
> Set sometime after Cap 2, maybe, background Sam/Steve and Clint/Nat. This is more Fosterson + Thanksgiving shenanigans than anything else. Enjoy!

They definitely didn’t think this one through.

Because flying across the Atlantic in November wearing one of her nice dresses and Thor in his custom Armani suit and being splattered in the face by gravy and potatoes just  _reeks_  of a bad plan poorly executed.

But let’s start at the beginning.

There’s an Avengers Thanksgiving.

(Yeah, if the internet knew, they’d go wild.)

Anyway, all the Avengers are invited to Thanksgiving at Stark Tower. Initially, Stark had insisted on having his chefs cook for them, but at Steve’s insistence, Tony backed down and agreed on a potluck Thanksgiving.

With the power of email, each of the Avengers listed what they would bring.

(Tony and Pepper will be taking care of the turkey. Steve and Sam volunteer to bring stuffing and green bean casserole. Rhodey agrees to bring the pies. Bruce [a last minute RSVP] says he is bringing a salad, and possibly Betty [if she’s not busy, he’d said]. Clint and Nat put themselves on alcohol duty. Therefore, Jane and Thor said that they would bring mashed potatoes and gravy.)

(Jane has a weird talent for it. Also, it’s easy to make and then stick in a crock pot and not worry about for hours.)

The thing about Thanksgiving at Stark Tower is that Jane’s in London, and Thor is, more often than not, with her.

“Do we really need to book a flight? And if we do, then we’ll have to make our stuff there. Not that I think Tony or Pepper would mind, but it’d be nice to have it made already, and not have to sit around Stark Tower all day making this stuff and listening to Tony badgering me about working for him again–”

“I’ll fly us.”

It had been clear that she was fishing for that answer, and her answering grin makes it worth the offer.

“We can make our offerings to the table here, fly to New York, and that will be that.”

She agrees, kissing him on the cheek for his brilliant idea, without entirely thinking it through because her results on her latest atmospheric data are back and she’s sucked back into her work in a matter of seconds.

Which is partly how Jane ends up wrapping one of her crock pots in Hello Kitty themed duct tape while Thor wraps the other in Flower Power from a small shop in Dublin two hours before they’re supposed to be at Stark Tower.

But we’re not there yet.

Jane puts special care into choosing her outfit for this dinner. It’s not that she feels pressured to make a good impression, it’s just–

When Pepper Potts appears immaculately dressed on the cover of  _Vogue_  and  _People_  and _Forbes_ , and looks like she’s stepped out of a catalog when candid pictures of her pop up on Perez Hilton or TMZ it kind of feels like she’s setting the bar inconceivably high.

(And Jane definitely has  _not_  purchased an issue of  _Us_ magazine with an article titled “Pepper Potts Shares Her 10 Tips for Fall Fashion.”)

(She definitely does not think about tip #7 [explore the fall color palette if possible] when she purchases a brown, orange, and yellow print dress for the Avengers’ Thanksgiving.)

Thanksgiving Day in London dawns bright and clear, a rare chance that Jane will not pass up. (With an alien who can control the weather sharing her bed, you’d think nice weather would be a given, but Thor insists on not interfering too heavily in climate patterns.) Since the holiday isn’t celebrated in London, Jane and Thor decide to walk to the shops without a rush, and find their required items without difficulty. Well, much difficulty, anyway.

Going out in public with Thor is always a bit of a wild card. Either half the city seems to recognize him, or none at all look twice at him.

Today is the day where every other person on the street asks for a selfie with him (which he is only far too pleased to partake in, gleefully telling them to tag him on Instagram [he even recommends a filter, good lord] or Twitter, whichever they end up posting it to) or asking him for autographs, at which point even more people seem to recognize that there is a celebrity afoot and begin to crowd around for their chance. (There are only ever a few hecklers, anti-superhero people who try to force their way through the crowd, only to be shut out and shunned by the fans.)

It’s hard for him to say no to people. He has a giving heart like that, and it’s one of the reasons Jane loves him so much. So despite her annoyance at being delayed in getting home (she was hoping to have the potatoes mashed by now and the gravy reduction underway,) when she meets his eye over the heads of the adoring masses, she smiles at him.

It seems like the small crowd is starting to thin out, but that’s only until people start recognizing her where she stands quietly leaning on a shop window browsing her phone.

This happens sometimes, too. Despite dating one of the sexiest men alive (probably), there aren’t a lot of hostilities thrown her way. (No, that’s saved for the internet where the cowards don’t have to face her. “Shouldn’t be Thor’s girlfriend because she can’t fight.” Jane would really like to tell those people to shove it where the sun don’t shine. Can’t fight. Did they even see what she did in Chechnya? She doesn’t need to fight.) Rather, she gets a great mix of delightful fans of Thor who want to know what he’s like outside of superheroing (He loves social media and livetweets watching episodes of  _Downton Abbey_. He loves Midgardian cooking. He snores when he sleeps on his stomach.) and then there are fans of  _her_. Like, a lot of kids who say that they read about her in school and think what she does is so cool and that they want to do that when they get older (and it means a lot. Really. Especially the little girls who say they want to be just like her, and it’s almost like looking in a mirror that takes her back twenty years.)

That’s the start of their trouble.

Because by the time they get home, they’re running late.

“Wash these, peel them, boil them, and mash them as quickly as you can,” Jane orders, throwing the bag of potatoes at him as they walk through the door. “I need to get started on the gravy. Ugh, why did I insist on doing all the cooking  _the day of_ –”

“No need to panic, my love,” Thor assures. “I’m sure we will finish our duties on time.”

“Easy for you to say,” she grouses as they head for the kitchen. “You’re not trying to impress anyone.”

“I… Impress anyone? Jane, who are you trying to impress?”

She sets the grocery bag down on the counter, and Thor removes the potatoes. “Isn’t it obvious? They’re your friends, Thor. I’ve only met most of them once, for like, ten minutes, after that whole thing in Chechnya. And I feel like I made an awful impression.”

“Tony likes you. And you certainly did not. You saved not only us, but the whole city from destruction that day.”

Jane nearly rolls her eyes as she starts removing her ingredients and Thor sits with his hands over the rubbish bin to begin peeling the potatoes. “I feel like Tony likes most people. And he also wants me to work for him. And I’ve talked to him before. I don’t think he counts. And I feel like I was really rude to everyone after that mission because you were hurt and I was worried.”

“They will like you,” Thor says confidently. “After all, I like you.”

“But you’re biased because of my scintillating conversational abilities and the unsung love between you and the camper’s bumper.”

Thor laughs. “Your ability to run me down has always been one of the main sources of sexual tension between us.”

Jane snorts, and leans down to kiss him. “I love you.”

“As I love you,” he answers against her lips.

A few moments later, once they’ve each returned to their respective tasks, she adds, “Just because you’re a great kisser doesn’t mean we suddenly have extra time on our hands. So, you know, chop chop with those potatoes.”

He mock salutes in her direction, and starts peeling in earnest.

Her nervousness about the event only makes the fact that her autumn-patterned dress is now caked in potatoes and gravy  _that_   _much_  worse. (Still not there yet. Right.)

So they’re about to leave. Her potatoes and gravy are cooked (to perfection, thank you very much) and warming in their crock pots.

Jane puts the finishing touches on her dress and makeup, but doesn’t mess with her hair. As much as Thor’s magic protects them from the wind resistance when they’re flying at the speed of sound, it’s not like riding in a car.

Thor is dressed and waiting for her by the door. He looks to be the definition of vogue as he stands in his three-piece suit and Mjolnir in his hand.

His face when he sees her makes her stomach flutter (she wonders when that will go away. When she will stop feeling the giddiness of a brand new relationship every time she wakes and finds him in bed with her. When his smile will stop affecting her like this.)

“Ready to fly, milady?”

“One sec,” she says, heading to the kitchen and tucking the crock pots under her arms.

Unfortunately, it’s only after they’ve taken off and are flying over Ireland that she realizes the idiocy of her plan.

The crock pot covers are rattling around, flapping against Jane’s arms as she struggles to keep them under control. Thor is blissfully ignorant, only tucking his chin once to tell her to hang on tight because a strong crosswind is coming up and their flight will be getting bumpy.

It takes Jane a few moments to register his words, but by the time she is screaming at Thor to AVOID THE CROSSWIND, it’s too late.

Warm gravy and potatoes are splashing out of the pots and onto her dress, and Thor finally seems to realize something is amiss when he’s hit square across the face by a chuck of escaped mashed potatoes.

“WE HAVE TO LAND!” Jane shouts over the sound of air (and the occasional food item) rushing past them.

Once they are back on solid ground (A random hilltop, and Jane can see light pollution on the horizon, so they must not be too far away from civilization), Jane kneels and sets the pots on the ground to take stock of what she lost. Thankfully, it seems the gravy was the least affected, and only a small volume of the crock pot had been lost. (It doesn’t seem like a small amount when it’s splattered all over her dress, though.) However, half of the potatoes are gone and Jane could bash her head into a tree. “I am such an idiot.”

“You are nothing of the sort,” Thor responds, moving to kneel next to her in the grass. She could kiss him, she really could, but his comfort doesn’t diminish the fact that there is gravy soaking into her dress and mashed potatoes in his beard.

She buries her face in her hands. The evening chill of an Irish fall evening begins to quickly cool the food on her outfit, and Jane is just so frustrated. “No, I really am. Like, I know I’m intelligent but sometimes I’m just so  _stupid_.” Much to her surprise she’s trying to hold in tears (maybe she cares about this stupid dinner even more than she thought), and this was not how she anticipated this Thanksgiving going.

“Jane,” Thor says gently, prying her hands away from her face an encourages her to meet his eye. “We can fix this. There’s a rather large city just beyond the horizon. We can stop, and while you replace your dress, I can replace the food we’ve lost. If I’ve learned anything about Midgard, it’s that you can trust the Irish to make delicious potatoes.”

She chuckles at that, but it soon turns into a full blown laugh because he’s just so  _sweet_  and he still has potatoes in his beard but his eyes are shining and his smile is blinding, even in the semi-darkness.

She takes a deep breath. He’s right. “Okay,” she answers. “It’s going to be fine.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Thor confirms before guiding her to her feet.

They land just inside of Dublin (away from any witnesses, and after a much gentler, careful flight) and Jane hands Thor the crock pots. “You handle the food, I will try to not look insane and get another dress, and one of us should definitely get some duct tape.”

Thor nods. “Good idea. I can get that when I visit the grocer.”

Long story short, Jane eventually finds a new dress (a deep blue sheath, though, because she looks weird in fall colors anyway) with minimal strange looks from the cashier, and she texts Thor to meet up at their rendezvous spot.

He replies, saying that he just received a freshly made batch of mashed potatoes and gravy on the house from one of Dublin’s finest eating establishments (sometimes being a world-saving superhero has perks).

When she sees him approaching and sees what he has purchased, she asks, “What the hell is that?”

He holds up two rolls of pink duct tape, one adorned with cartoon flowers and the other Hello Kitty themed.

“This was all they had left. Would you prefer the flowers or the Greeting Feline?”

Jane chuckled. “I’m guessing the Allspeak doesn’t quite know what to do with the phrase ‘Hello Kitty.’” She shrugs. “What the hell, give me the Greeting Feline and the potatoes so we can be on our way.”

Thor hands her the Hello Kitty tape with a grin and he leans over to kiss her neck just below her ear. “You look ravishing in that dress, by the way,” he rumbles in her ear, “Blue is a rather fetching color on you.”

She ignores the shiver going down her spine at his husky voice, “I thought you liked me in red better.”

“Aye, but I’m an easily persuaded man, it seems, when it comes to you.”

He leans back in for another kiss, going for her lips this time, and Jane only lets them have a few heated seconds of making out before she pulls back. “Okay, we really need to get going. A quickie in this back alley in Dublin is not in the schedule.”

Thor grumbles playfully, but acquiesces. They each wrap the crock pots in several layers of duct tape, and decide to postpone worry about how they’ll free their food until they arrive in New York.

“Shall we?” Thor says as Jane hefts the food under her arms once again.

“We shall,” she answers as he tugs her against him and they take off.

When they finally arrive, they disrupt a thoroughly distracted Sam pressing Steve against the Stark Tower balcony and kissing him. When they touch down, Sam just about leaps out of his skin, jumping away from Steve in a maneuver that looks more defensive than embarrassed. Steve clearly isn’t too pleased with that development and hauls him back in for another quick peck before turning to greet Jane and Thor.

Thor is grinning at his friends and greets, “Samuel, Steven! You both remember my girlfriend, Dr. Jane Foster, yes?”

“Absolutely,” Steve answers, holding out his hand for her to shake, until he realizes she’s still holding the crockpots under her arms.

She feels herself blush, but neither man seems phased. “Yeah, from after the mission in Chechnya, right? You helped us stabilize those gravity wells,” Sam remembers.

“That’s me,” Jane says.

“Saved our asses on that one, that’s for sure. I wouldn’t have been able to fly if it weren’t for you,” Sam says.

“Is that Jane and Thor?” Clint calls out from inside. He’s sitting nestled on the couch, Natasha curled next to him. The amount of wine and liquor bottles they have in front of them on the coffee table is startling, to say the least, but they both seem quite sober and quite pleased with each other.

Jane follows Thor inside, Steve and Sam not far behind. “Good evening, Natasha, Clinton. You remember Jane?”

The two assassins stand, and the fact that Jane is having Thanksgiving with two assassins blows her mind just a little bit. Like, they look normal? She doesn’t remember ever seeing them out of their SHIELD uniforms. But they look like your average Midwestern couple, who probably have 2.5 kids and a minivan and probably a dog named Lucky and juggle stuff like soccer practice, band camp, and also probably very active sex lives, judging by the way they look at each other.

She knows that the reality is far less picturesque, so she finds herself glad that they can find these moments of normality.

Besides, the Avengers already have their impossibly cute, white picket fence couple in Sam and Steve.

Once the wine glasses get passed around (and Pepper and Tony join them), Jane and Thor explain why their crock pots are “Duct taped Fort Knox” (Rhodey’s words).

(Jane might privately admit to Pepper later in the evening that she picked the dress because of that article.)

(Pepper chuckles and asks, “Do you really think I’m giving interviews about my fashion choices to  _Us m_ agazine?”)

(“Um, yes?”)

(“Trust me, if I’m going to give an interview about my clothing choices, I’m giving it to  _Vogue_ and no one else.” Pepper smiles kindly then, “I love your dress by the way. I love it when people don’t go with a fall color palette during the fall.”)

Bruce being practically dragged along by a chipper Betty arrive not fifteen minutes after Jane and Thor had, and by then the table is set, the mood is high, and Jane wonders what on earth she was so worried about.

Besides,  _Betty Ross_  is here. Even if this was the worst Thanksgiving in the world, it would be worth it to meet the famous biochemist.

(And this is far,  _far_  from the worst Thanksgiving in the world.)


	16. "I'll meet you halfway."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've changed my username from SerenaBancroft to the_irish_mayhem so that my disparate accounts are more easily associated. Still me!
> 
> Part of the [100 Ways to Say “I Love You”](http://the-irish-mayhem.tumblr.com/post/144262841921/prompt-me-with-100-ways-to-say-i-love-you-its) meme.
> 
> anonymous asked: Fosterson: I'll meet you halfway (SPACE DATES)

“I’ll meet you halfway,” he says, and it’s one of the oddest things he’s ever said to her because–

“Thor, halfway from Earth to Asgard… is… space.”

“Perhaps halfway is not an apt descriptor. The distance to your moon is certainly not halfway to Asgard.”

“Wait–we’re… what? We’re meeting on the moon?”

He just cocks an eyebrow and smiles.

“That’s not an answer.”

“You told me yesterday that you miss the sunsets in Norway.”

Jane’s brow furrows. “Well… yeah?”

He grins again, the wind on the balcony of her apartment ruffling his cape. “Then you will be most satisfied.”

“I’m still not understanding how the moon and me missing sunsets in Norway fits together.”

“Do you trust me?” Thor asks, leaning a little closer to her.

“Of course,” she answers, “but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to understand–”

He interrupts her query with a kiss. “Call for Heimdall when you’re finished with work tomorrow? He knows where we’re going.”

“Oh come _on_ , you can tell Heimdall but not _me_?” she asks as he steps away, giving him room to take flight.

“Some of us have mastered the art of the surprise,” he answers, giving her a look.

Jane huffs. “Just because I accidentally spilled the beans about Sam’s surprise party doesn’t mean I don’t know how to do surprises.”

Thor’s only answer is to laugh. “Until tomorrow, my love.” She steps backwards with the concussion of his takeoff, and watches as his vibrant red cape slowly fades into the distance.

* * *

“Okay, this is amazing,” she says. “I’d heard about the studies of the Blue Area but I don’t think anyone’s come here yet. And they’re definitely not telling kids’ science classes about it yet.”

“I imagine the Skrull’s involvement in its creation would require a more widely held acceptance of alien interference in your galaxy’s history.”

Jane takes a deep inhale. “This is amazing,” she repeats, and scuffs her toe against the moon’s dusty surface beneath her feet. She drops down, giving into the temptation to run her fingers through it. “Amazing,” she breathes.

“I thought you might think so,” Thor says, and she stands and throws her arms around him.

“I think I was promised a sunset,” she mumbles into his chest.

His laughter rumbles through him. “Aye, that you were.”

They settle on the edge of a crater (she is sitting on the edge of a _crater_ , what even–) as Earth spins in front of the sun.

“This is… this is beyond anything I ever dreamed of. I forget, sometimes, that this is the thing I dreamed about when I was a kid. The moon, the sun, how our solar system worked. Now I’m all about deep space, I suppose, but this is just…” Breath-taking? Awe-inspiring? Words just seemed to fall short of describing the feeling of sitting on the moon, of looking up to see trillions of stars, of looking at their own star, seeming so reachable outside of Earth’s atmosphere. “Thank you for this,” she finally says. “Thank you so much.”

Thor presses a kiss to her temple, and she leans into it. “You are most welcome. I oft feel as though I owe you so much. I’m glad I can return it in kind.”

She tears her gaze away from the majesty in front of her to glance over at Thor. His expression is one of softness as he looks upon her planet, and shifts to tenderness when he turns his gaze on her. “Your world saved me, Jane. _You_ saved me. You and all the people who have brought me into their lives. Without Midgard, I don’t know what manner of man I would be. But I know that I would be lost.”

Jane feels love squeeze her heart. “Then go find yourself a nice Earth girl, and give her a big kiss on the mouth in thanks,” she says with a touch of cheek.

Thor licks his lips. “Do you perchance know where I could find one?”

“There’s a couple billion of them right down there,” she suggests, and before they can tease each other any more, they’re kissing. One of his large hands engulfs the back of her head, and the other finds her waist, pulling her nearer to him. Her own hands tangle in his hair and his shirt (he’d dressed in casual Midgardian clothes for their date), and he pulls away just enough to say, “I think simply kissing on the mouth isn’t nearly enough gratitude.”

“No?” she answers, breathless.

“Not by half,” he says.

They kiss for a little while longer before Jane pulls away with wide eyes. “Are we about to have sex on the moon?”

“Is that okay?” Thor asks, and Jane just laughs.

This is _outrageous_ , and she’s going to love every minute of it.


	17. "Drive safely."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of the [100 Ways to Say “I Love You”](http://the-irish-mayhem.tumblr.com/post/144262841921/prompt-me-with-100-ways-to-say-i-love-you-its) meme.
> 
> retroprincess89 asked: #28 fosterson
> 
> 28\. “Drive safely.”

“Are you sure I shouldn’t fly you?”

“Thor, it will be fine.”

“I’m sure, I’m sure, but sometimes it seems as though villains attack at the worst times, and you never know what major highway could be their next target.”

“Targeting a country’s major infrastructure to cripple transportation? That sounds a little too smart for a supervillain. Why not go after the Statue of Liberty? Or the Golden Gate Bridge? Or the entirety of Manhattan?”

“Jane.”

“Driving to this conference will be just fine. I am an extremely competent driver.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust. The aggressiveness of drivers in New York City is well known.”

“Well, the best defense is a good offense.”

“ _Jane_.”

“I know, I know. I’ll be really careful. Check my mirrors every thirty seconds, keep the proper following distance and everything, deal?”

“Deal. Drive safely, my love.”


	18. “It’s not heavy. I’m stronger than I look.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shinyopals asked: if you still want to write prompts, #22 and fosterson!
> 
> [100 Ways to Say “I Love You”](http://the-irish-mayhem.tumblr.com/post/144262841921/prompt-me-with-100-ways-to-say-i-love-you-its)
> 
> 22\. “It’s not heavy. I’m stronger than I look.”

Bruce Banner lies curled in a fetal position with a gaping hole blown in his chest. Valkyrie is not far from him (she’d managed to crush a healing stone into his wound before she’d also been taken down) with her sword still clutched in her palm. Thor is on the ground with Mjolnir at his side, and he’s _not moving_. 

Why does it always come to this? How many times will she have to watch him–

Except this time, they’re on Asgard and he’s on the ground and their enemy isn’t gone, Hela is advancing on him like a predator, the Time Stone pulsing from it’s place around her neck, and if she kills him, then it’s over. She and Loki win. Yggdrasil will burn. Not just Earth, but everywhere. Alfheim. Jotunheim. Even the untouchable Asgard.

Her galaxy, her universe that she’s studied since she was a child, the phenomenon of the cosmos that brought her the man she loves, her friends, her family, on Earth and with Yggdrasil’s other branches.

Gone. All of it.

She doesn’t know how she’s going to do it, or even if she can, but she knows she has to try.

She sprints away from her equipment, which jammed the frequencies emitted by the Time stone and should’ve allowed Thor, the Hulk, and Valkyrie enough time to take down Hela while Sif led the assault on Loki on the other side of the world.

Key word being should’ve. The equipment is still working perfectly, but there’s no way they will succeed unless someone can stop Hela.

Hela doesn’t notice her until she stops, her heart pounding and her lungs heaving, directly between her and Thor.

“Oh,” Hela laughs, “You stupid mortal girl. You think you can protect him from me?”

Well, _no_ , but Jane’s not going to say that, and it’s not going to stop her from trying. “I’m stronger than I look.”

Hela prowls closer, undeterred. “I will grant you that. It’s not every human that can carry an Infinity Stone and not be consumed. However,” she says, “I’ve no doubt a well aimed spell can’t shove your heart from your chest, just as I did for your other Midgardian friend over there.”

That makes her breath catch, because the Hulk is nearly indestructible, and if Hela managed to do that and hurt him so badly it made him shrink him back down to breakable-Bruce size, she’s not feeling confident about her chances.

But she’s not going to move. Not unless Hela _makes her_.

Hela sighs. “It’s a shame. Midgardians, that is. You should’ve stayed out of this. Far less painless that way.”

Jane growls, “Not a chance.”

She doesn’t entirely know why she reaches for Mjolnir when Hela fires the blast of magic at her. Maybe her subconscious made her reach for it because she remembers Thor deflecting magic away from her while she worked the jamming equipment. In reality, there isn’t a decision that made her reach down for the hammer. All she knows is that if she’s all that’s standing between them and universal annihilation, then there’s not even a choice.

Between one heartbeat and the next, everything changes.

She feels power fill her, unlike anything she’s felt before. The Aether was dark, slithering, pulling at her consciousness and making her feel as though her whole body was coming apart at the seams. This is a different fullness, bursting and rolling, just begging to be used to just fuck some shit _up_. It’s a feeling that almost makes her laugh it’s so heady.

She brings Mjolnir up just in time to deflect the spell, sending it back towards Hela. The sorceress is so surprised, she can’t even mount a defense for her own rebounding spell, and it hits her square in the stomach, sending her flying backwards.

Jane looks down at herself, finding that she’s wearing a smaller version of Thor’s armor; the chainmail molding to her (suddenly more muscular??) arms is light, and doesn’t restrict her movement. Her chest is covered in a solid plate of shining metal that’s adorned with designs that she vaguely recognizes from Asgard’s Ancient Reading section. She’s also wearing a red cape. Oh god, there’s blond hair too. Her hair is now _blonde_.

Physical changes aside, Jane still has a job to do. Now that she has Mjolnir, she can end this. That’s what she figured out – they could stop the Time stone’s output with enough terajoules of lightning, an amount so absurdly high only Mjolnir could ever manage to produce it. She’s not sure how this whole magic thing works, but now she has a chance. They _all_ have a chance.

Now, Jane is the one who stalks towards Hela like a predator, the downed villain pushing away from the encroaching scientist-turned-thunder goddess (maybe? Does this count as her being a thunder goddess? Because Thor’s not technically a god, only the worshippers on Earth thought of him that way, so is she just god adjacent? Or–)

And Jane is not good at this fighting thing. Not really. Because Hela recovers, and Hela is a trained combat soreceress. Jane gets in a couple of good hits, and lightning is swirling around her and would be making her feel like one hell of a badass if she wasn’t, you know, battling for the fate of the Nine Realms. She manages to deflect most of Hela’s spells, but a couple of them catch her, sending pain rocketing through her limbs.

One particular spell sends Jane flying nearly back to where Thor is starting to shift, but he’s still nowhere near conscious yet. Maybe she just needs to stall long enough so he can take Mjolnir from her and do this, because she’s clearly not doing so great.

(But she can’t deny that she feels really capable when she hurls the hammer at Hela, scores a direct hit to her face, and it returns to her hand with a steady thrum.)

“Give it up, Midgardian. You may have the power of Thor for now, but you will never have the strength to defeat me!” Hela yells.

And then a sword drives out of Hela’s chest. Jane’s mouth drops open as she finally spies a conscious Valkyrie, sporting a huge smile from behind Hela. “Perhaps the Lady Jane isn’t experienced enough to defeat you,” she drives the sword a little harder through, “But I am willing to wager that _we_ are.”

Hela looks down at the sword. Blood is spilling out of the wound, out of her dropped open mouth, but the fight is not over. Hela will be tied to the land of the living so long as the Stone is around her neck. Each beat of her heart brings them closer to Ragnarok. They are entwined – the activated Time Stone must be stopped, and Hela must die in order for Ragnarok to be averted. Otherwise, one will continue to feed the other until Yggdrasil falls.

“Now, Jane!” shouts Valkyrie, and though she has no idea what she’s doing, she remembers Thor’s words, whispered in the intimacy of their bedroom on Earth, when she’d asked him about his magic.

_“There is no process or step by step guide. Do you know how when you’ve been awake for 50 odd hours, and all you want to do is sleep, but you keep managing to pull from this well of strength somewhere deep inside you? That’s magic. It’s fueled by your very essence. Mjolnir, in particular. Its magic is incredibly selective for that reason, because it can only be fueled by a very specific essence of being. That’s why so few are found worthy. Because so few can sustain the demands the magic places on your soul. So I suppose, there’s no real ‘how to do it’ with magic. You just… do.”_

And Jane does.

Mjolnir seems to know exactly what she needs, and she holds her arm up, generating a heavy dose of lightening.

And then she brings the hammer down directly on top of the Infinity Stone.

The end of Hela is the end of Ragnarok and the end of Ragnarok is the end of Hela.

Valkyrie and Jane are both thrown backwards from the force of the electricity Jane produced, but both rise not moments later.

Valkyrie approaches where Hela has fallen, Valkyrie’s sword still through her chest. The Time Stone is dark, and the large smoking crater left in Hela’s chest is a testament to Jane’s powerful attack.

“It is done,” Valkyrie says, and as Jane watches her yank her sword out of Hela’s corpse, and moves back over to where Bruce Banner still lies motionless.

From just behind her, Jane hears, “I really do love you,” and she turns to see Thor finally sitting up.

A huge weight is lifted off of her shoulders, and she breathes a huge sigh of relief as she closes the distance between them, falling to her knees and dropping Mjolnir so she can hug him close. “Are you okay?” she whispers, just a tad desperate and she’s not ashamed to admit it.

“Nothing but a small bit of damage to my pride,” he assures, and she kisses his cheeks until he giggles – _giggles_. When she pulls back, he says, “Thank you, Jane, for doing what I could not.”

“Well, that’s… I know you could’ve probably better than me, because I know you weren’t conscious at the time time but _man_  that fight was rough. The only reason I was able to stop the Time Stone was because Valkyrie was able to kill Hela. So really, it was really not me. Much. Well, it was a bit me. Yeah.”

“I find it hard to believe you are this bad at taking compliments about how Mjolnir’s found you worthy.”

She huffs a little. “That was not… okay, that was pretty cool, but I think I’m probably better off in the lab. Most of the time. Maybe I can pick it up every once in a while.”

Thor chuckles. “It’s a bit addictive.”

“No kidding,” Jane answers. She lifts it again, taking time to examine the details of the hammer that’s become a pretty central figure in her life. “It’s… not heavy,” she says, surprised. The thing had always seemed so massive, and there was just… this power that hung around it that made it seem permanent, fixed. Like the universe was expected to move around _it_. And the sound it made, the metallic, magical hum when it was picked up, just made it seem _heavy_. “And it’s crazy well-balanced.”

“Right?” Thor says, excitement bleeding through his voice.

“I’m fine, by the way, if anyone over there wanted to know,” Bruce shouts from across the way. Valkyrie is straight-up carrying him bridal style over to where she and Thor are still on the ground, so that doesn’t lend credence to “fine” but Jane is willing to accept “alive and well enough to sass.”

Now that the Time Stone’s been silenced, Sif’s battle against Loki will go much easier, but it would still need to be fought.

“Should we go and help Sif, maybe?” Jane asks. “I think we could make an awesome tag team.”

She knows it’s a fight against Loki, and she knows exactly how much he hates that, so she’s happy when he comment draws a genuine smile from him.

“Shall we, Thor?”

“After you, Thor.”


	19. Stealth Hugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the ye olde cuddles/hugs meme. And is also kind of for @if-she-be-worthy on tumblr. Just a lil domestic snippet.
> 
> Set pre-AOU.

She’s been at her latest data set for hours. She hit that sweet spot of rolling through things quickly in spite of her tiredness about two hours–wait, no, according to the clock that spurt was over four hours ago. Now it feels like she’s staring at the screen blankly, her eyes burning and her brain beyond fried. She should probably go to bed, maybe grab some food before she goes. She can’t remember when she had dinner.

Jane pushes away from the desk, tapping the save button and backing it up to the proper sources. She stands and pushes her arm above her head, hearing a series of semi-alarming, but relieving pops in her spine, and she moans at the sensation… which turns into a startled screech when a pair of arms wrap around her exposed waist.

“I love it when you make that noise,” Thor whispers into her ear, and she relaxes against him, a laugh slipping from her.

“For someone so huge, you’re really sneaky.”

“I am indeed well-versed in the art of sneaking.”

“Says the guy who, up until recently, held the belief that the best diplomacy was ‘hit it with hammer until it stops moving.’”

Thor grumbles, “That is a gross oversimplification, and you know it.”

“Not by much.” She rolls her neck backwards, looking up at him from underneath his chin. “Do we have any leftovers in the fridge?”

“I got you a box of egg rolls and beef and vegetable stir fry when I was out earlier.”

She groans again. “I love you so much right now.”

He chuckles. “I’ll always be here to provide you with cheap Chinese food at all hours of the evening.”

She turns in his arms so she can press her face to his chest. “File under the list of reasons why we’re really good together.”

“Will do,” he replies. “I will say, I’m proud of you for not requiring a reminder from me that you should halt your studies for the day. That doesn’t happen often.”

“Yeah, well now I’ve got someone to make me look forward to going to bed,” she says with as salacious a wink as she can manage.

Thor’s chuckle rumbles through his chest. “I would believe you if you weren’t falling asleep on your feet, my love.”

“Don’t you dare carry me, I can make it to bed.”

“But what about your food?”

“…Damn it.”

“Should I bring it to you in bed?”

“If I do that, I’ll fall asleep. Just come with me to the kitchen and talk to me. As long as I do that, I can stay awake.”

She falls asleep only two egg rolls in.

He ends up carrying her to bed.


End file.
